by Susan Tracy
Leigh had enjoyed herself. After she had brushed down the walls, she had rollered with enthusiasm, stepping back now and again to admire her handiwork. The once-mottled walls shone a gleaming white. It was surprising what a fresh coat of paint could do.
With a sigh of satisfaction, Leigh got to her feet. Oh, but she could use a hot bath once all this lot was cleared away, she told herself.
She gathered up the newspapers that lined the living room floor and bundled them under one arm. With the paint can and brush carefully balanced in the other hand, she made her precarious way to the kitchen. There she plopped everything disposable into the large garbage can and went to check on Jody.
The child was still sleeping soundly, her favorite stuffed bear cuddled under her arm. Leigh tiptoed out, closing the door quietly behind her. She hoped the barrier of the door would be sufficient to keep the paint fumes to a minimum. The clerk in the hardware store had assured her the paint was a quick-drying one, but still, a picnic supper outside this evening would probably be a good idea.
She was in the kitchen putting the brush in a pail of turpentine to soak when she heard a call from the open front door.
A thin blond man wearing a well-cut tan suit stood there, peering short-sightedly into the room as if trying to adjust his eyes from the brightness outside.
"Dan!" Leigh cried incredulously. "What in the world are you doing here?"
At the sound of her voice, relief showed in the boyishly attractive face. "I might ask you the same thing. Leigh, do you know what a time I've had tracking you down?"
He stepped forward to meet her halfway and take both her hands in his. At closer range, he gaped. "At least, I think it's Leigh. My word, what have you done to yourself, darling?"
Ruefully she touched the green bandanna concealing her hair and glanced down at the paint-spattered jeans. Not quite the way her agent was accustomed to seeing her. In fact, she doubted if Dan had ever seen her before with a hair out of place.
Leigh gave a helpless laugh. "I've been painting."
"So I see, but I'm not sure I believe my eyes." He surveyed the room with its open windows and sheet-draped furniture, his nose wrinkling fastidiously at the strong chemical smell.
"What in God's name are you doing in this place? I thought you said you were going to Raleigh."
"I'm living here—temporarily, anyway. Didn't you get my telegram?"
"Yes, I got it." Dan's hands tightened as his pale blue eyes studied her.
"Are you all right? You were working long hours on that Lovelight ad just before you got word about your grandfather and I know how hard his death hit you. You had to get away, didn't you?"
His expression said she must have taken leave of her senses, but he was trying to understand.
"Dan, I…"
"No, not another word. There's no need for explanations. I'm here to look after you. What you need is to get back to New York, back to what's familiar."
To confirmed city-dweller Dan, life in the country would border on purgatory. He would never believe that anyone would willingly want to stay here. It was so quiet!
His arms went around Leigh in a gentle embrace. "I'll take care of everything, my dear," he murmured into her ear as to a distraught child.
"Am I interrupting?" Jason stood in the doorway, a hint of implacability about his lean, hard form.
Leigh went stiff and Dan dropped his arms to turn around.
"Dan, this is my husband, Jason Randall." With an effort, Leigh introduced the two men.
"Husband!" Dan parroted. He was thunderstruck. Leigh, married! And to this formidable-looking man.
"Well, I can't say this isn't a surprise," he managed, extending a hand to Jason. Surprise was putting it mildly. Such impulsive behavior was something he would never have expected from the cool Leigh.
"It's a long story, Dan," Leigh was starting to explain when Jason broke in with the suggestion that they sit down. While he was taking the sheets off the sofa and chairs, Leigh went to the kitchen for cool drinks. From the looks of Dan he could use something stronger, but all she had was iced tea.
She returned to find the men seated and chatting amiably. Offering the drinks, she perched on the edge of a chair.
"I wish you the best, Leigh, you know that." Dan cleared his throat. "I guess I'll need some details. Do you, ah, plan to continue modeling now that you're married?"
"Why don't you join us for dinner this evening, Mr. Morgan. Then you and my wife will have ample opportunity to talk," Jason said easily. He leaned across to place his hand lightly, but possessively over Leigh's. "Are you staying in Harrellsville?"
On learning the name of Dan's hotel, Jason gave him directions to the main house, named a time, and within minutes they were seeing the agent to his car.
Leigh started to the kitchen to finish clearing away the painting debris, but Jason halted her.
"You didn't finish your iced tea," he pointed out, waiting politely for her to resume her seat.
As before, he sprawled on the sofa, but Leigh got the impression that the ease he conveyed was deceptive, that he was about as relaxed as a tiger, tightly coiled, ready to spring.
"Just who is he, Leigh?" Jason asked softly.
"I told you. Dan's my agent. He arranges my photo sessions, gets me commissions, sets up interviews, things like that."
Jason picked up his glass and drained it. "What else is he?"
"He's a friend. A good friend."
"How good?"
"Just what are you driving at, Jason?" Leigh was getting decidedly annoyed.
"Don't be naive, my dear. I simply want to know if you sleep with him."
"That's none of your business," she spat out.
She had gone out with Dan a couple of times recently, and she liked him as well, perhaps better, than any other man she knew. He was kind and considerate, they had their work and friends in common, and he made her laugh. Also, he didn't turn into an octopus at the end of the evening. Just a good-night kiss at her door and he left.
"Answer me, blast it." Tired of waiting for an elaboration, Jason took Leigh's chin in an ungentle hold and forced her face up to his.
"I've been out with Dan a few times, but that's all," she capitulated. "I like him. He's a gentleman," she added with emphasis.
"Something I'm not, you mean?" Jason let her go and got up to wander over to the open window. "Did you ask him to come here?" he asked abruptly, swinging around and hooking his thumbs into the belt of his snug-fitting blue denim jeans.
"No." Leigh's eyes shot gray fire at him, her feelings stung at his continual distrust of her. "As I've told you innumerable times before, I'll stay until your brother and Clare come back. I gave you my word and I'll keep it."
"What about your marriage vows?" he asked strangely.
"What? I don't understand."
He chose to drop the subject. "Hmmm, I wonder what your good friend Dan wants."
Leigh took a deep breath, anxious for this curious inquisition to end. "He came to see if I was all right. He was worried about me."
"Maybe." Jason's tone was skeptical. In three pantherlike strides he was across the room, in front of Leigh. He took in her wide, misty-colored eyes, the perfectly formed mouth, features whose purity was outlined by the severity of the green scarf.
"Oh, he fancies you, all right. I could see that. But this is a long way to come for a fancy."
Jason raked an impatient hand through his coal black hair, leaving it in disarray. "We'll find out tonight, I suppose." He dismissed the subject of Dan and sat down again.
"Will you help Smitty with arrangements for the dinner?"
"Yes, of course. As soon as Jody wakes up, we can go over to the house." Leigh was relieved at the change of subject.
"You might as well plan to spend the night there. It will be too late to bring Jody back." He paused, rubbing at his chin.
"Maybe I should ask Paula to join us, to round out the numbers."
"I thought the idea w
as for Dan and me to talk."
"You'll have plenty of time with him, don't worry. If Paula comes, then I'll have someone to talk to as well." A sardonic smile edged his mouth.
"Then why not ask the Penders and make it a real dinner party?" Leigh challenged, only half serious.
"Why not." To her surprise, he nodded agreement. "You like Betty Pender, don't you?"
Leigh's affirmative answer was rather defensive. She was wondering if he was implying that she was immune to making friends or liking people.
As she went to rise from the chair, she felt a protest from muscles that had had too much unaccustomed exercise.
"What's wrong?" Immediately Jason was there to help her up.
"Nothing, I'm fine." She shrugged away from his disturbing touch.
"You overdid it today." It was a flat statement. He needed no other confirmation than the walls around him, which he was noticing all of a sudden.
"Do you like it? It looks better, don't you think?"
"Much better." But he was looking at her. "You know, Leigh, I didn't think you'd really do it." His eyes raked the slender form of the girl standing beside him. "You look too delicate to raise a window shade, much less paint an entire room all by yourself and still come out fighting."
"I'm stronger than I look."
"I'm beginning to realize that."
For one long, breathless moment he was gazing deep into her eyes, seeming to see through to her very soul.
At the familiar melting sensation that was flowing through her, Leigh broke the contact.
"I'd better check on Jody and put a few things into an overnight bag."
"Leigh," he stopped her with a curt command, "pack everything, we're moving. If we're going to have to smell paint, we might as well do so in comfort at the house." His smile was almost tender. "Who knows what else you might take it into that pretty head of yours to tackle if I leave you around here. My next tenant is already enough in your debt."
Her pulse rate doing double-time, she went to get their things ready. With Jason helping, the move to the main house was accomplished in record time. Basically they had only their clothes and Jody's toys to transfer, and the cottage to tidy and close up.
Since Smitty was not expecting them, Leigh undertook to prepare their rooms while Smitty started on the impromptu dinner party. Leigh and Jody were given connecting rooms, and Leigh was glad the child would be near her, but it was a luxury to have a room to herself once again.
She stationed Jody at a small table with a box of building bricks, and humming to herself aired their rooms and put fresh linens on the beds. That finished, she went reluctantly along to do Jason's room, Jody trailing behind.
As she worked, she couldn't help wondering at Jason's change of heart in allowing her to stay in his home. Maybe he had tired of trying to punish her.
When she went to give Smitty a hand, Leigh found everything well under way. Between the two of them they were soon putting on the finishing touches, and Leigh even had time to take a restless Jody for a short walk in the garden before giving her her dinner.
Finally Leigh was able to have her long-awaited bath. She filled the lemon yellow tub with steaming hot water and sprinkled in a generous dose of the bath oil she discovered on the bathroom shelf. As she sank gratefully into the soft, scented water, she could feel the soreness easing out of her muscles and she stayed as long as she dared, giving herself up to pure, sensuous pleasure.
Leigh decided to wear the black lace dress. With the exquisitely groomed Paula Knight around, she would need every boost to her confidence she could get. Somehow the woman always made her feel at a disadvantage, but tonight would be an exception, Leigh decided, the sparkle of combat in her eyes.
With its high neckline and long sleeves, the black gown could have looked demure, but the skin-toned peach underslip peeping through the lace took care of that. The dress fit Leigh's slim form like a glove, the long skirt dropping in an arrow-straight line to her feet, and only a slit up one side allowed her enough room to take a step.
The gown enhanced the fragile quality about Leigh, its midnight color emphasizing her fairness. Despite the fact that she was rather tall for a woman, Leigh somehow conveyed a wistful, dreamlike beauty.
To accent the Victorian style of the gown, she swept her silvery hair into a knot at the top of her head, teasing a few tendrils out to curl around her ears and neck. Using all her model's skill, she brushed a silver-blue shadow onto her eyelids, touched her cheeks with rosy blusher and her lips with a matching deep pink, and she was quickly ready. She was just giving her makeup a last check in the mirror when the door to her room opened. Through the mirror she saw Jason appear, an elegant stranger in evening clothes.
"Closed doors are for knocking," she pointed out coolly, refusing to turn around.
"This is my house and you're my wife," he returned arrogantly, matching her tone.
At that, Leigh swung to face him. "Did you want something?"
He didn't answer, but his look was insinuating.
Leigh stood up, her carriage straight and full of unconscious pride.
"I'm ready, if that's what you came to see about." She walked over to the bed and picked up a black beaded evening purse lying there.
"What are you so nervous about?" he asked, too close for comfort, his observant eyes noting the slight tremor of the hand clutching the bag.
"Is it because I'm in here? Women's bedrooms are no novelty to me, Leigh."
"Well, I'm not used to having a man in mine."
He continued to stare at her a long moment before his mouth relaxed in a genuine smile, so appealing that it took her breath away.
"No, I don't think you are, little one," he said softly, so close to her his breath touched her forehead.
Discomfited, she was toying with the snap fastening of her purse when his next words brought her head up with a jerk.
"I've brought you a present."
He reached inside his blue velvet dinner jacket and brought out a small square case, which he handed to her.
"Open it," he ordered.
On a bed of black satin lay a pair of diamond earrings, the large round stones winking blue-white in the overhead light.
Leigh caught her breath with a gasp. "They're beautiful."
She closed the case and handed it back to him.
"I can't accept them."
"Why not?" His voice was grim.
"They're too expensive, for one thing. For another, we're about to get an annulment to a marriage that never should have taken place. Why should you give me a gift?"
"Don't be so suspicious, Leigh," he said shortly. "I won't expect any—payment—if that's what's bothering you. The earrings are a trinket. I can well afford much more. The point is, to our guests tonight, you're my wife, and you'll look the part."
When she made no move to take the case from his hand, a muscle twitched at the side of his mouth.
"However much you may dislike me, Leigh, your soft heart won't let you make me the object of neighborhood gossip, will it? You'll look, and act, like a real wife tonight."
At his clever, absolutely correct reasoning, Leigh took the jewels and screwed them onto her earlobes. The glance she threw him was full of exasperation.
"You are an impossible man, Jason Randall. Does anyone ever get the better of you?"
"Not if I can help it. Although a certain beautiful blonde keeps trying."
As he started to laugh, she joined in, unable to help herself, and together they walked downstairs to await their guests.
Leigh wanted to check the dining room, to make sure everything was in place, so Jason equably accompanied her. The mahogany table was now extended to its full length, its burnished sheen highlighted by place settings of shimmering crystal and bone china. Instead of a tablecloth, Leigh had chosen to use forest green linen mats, whose color was reflected in the greenery of the centerpiece of yellow forsythia and buttercups that she had arranged in a round bronze vase.
/> Her inspection satisfactory, Leigh let Jason lead her off to the drawing room where he poured them each a drink and raised his glass to her. What his toast would have been Leigh never knew for at that moment Paula Knight walked in. Tonight the tall brunette was dramatic in an off-the-shoulder gown of translucent sea green. Leigh and Jason scarcely had time to greet her before the Penders and Dan arrived. Apparently they had driven up at the same time.
The evening went well. Smitty had outdone herself with the food, from the first course of finely ground liver pate to the dessert of fresh strawberry mousse. Neither Leigh nor Jason had to strive to keep the conversation going, for it seemed that the others wanted to know all about Dan and his fascinating career in the world of magazine and television advertising. He answered their questions rather diffidently at first, but later, mellowed by the fine wine Jason served, he kept them amused with one anecdote after another. Although Leigh had been slightly nervous about hostessing her first dinner party, she realized that the good food and stimulating company made things easy. Jason helped, too, by replacing his usual mocking air for a relaxed, affectionate one. He was quiet, and every time Leigh looked down to the other end of the table where he sat, she caught his brooding eyes on her. She sensed a difference in him tonight, a change in manner that she could not quite pinpoint.
The Penders left soon after dinner was over, explaining that their baby-sitter had a curfew. From Betty's lively remarks and the smile on the face of her more laconic husband, Leigh could tell they had enjoyed themselves.
In the drawing room, Paula drifted over to Jason and began asking him questions concerning a business matter. Overhearing her, Dan turned to Leigh with a pensive look on his face.
"Your husband wouldn't be the Randall who owns International Trucking, by any chance?" he asked her.
"I don't know. I'm not really familiar with Jason's businesses."
Dan's lips pursed in a soundless whistle. "Unless I miss my guess, sweetie, you've caught yourself a big fish. If your Jason is who I think he is, he's a millionaire several times over."
Uncomfortable, Leigh picked up her liqueur glass and sipped at the almond-flavored drink it contained. Across the room, Jason and Paula seemed to be deep in conversation.
