Gray Wolf's Woman

by Peggy Webb

  “What do you think?”

  “I think I’ll fetch some wine,” he said hastily, and vanished back into the kitchen.

  The sun was setting over the ocean, a vast, magnificent sight that made her go to the window and stand, almost breathless with the beauty of it. “I can see why you bought a house in just this spot,” she said, hearing Luke enter behind her. “Imagine having this, all the time.”

  “All the time,” he agreed, coming up behind her and putting his hands on her shoulders. “I’m so glad I had the chance to show it to you. And I’ve got you both for a whole week. I’m going to make this the best vacation you’ve ever had.”

  “As long as Josie enjoys herself, and you and she get to know each other.”

  “What about you and me?”

  “We already do know each other,” she said with a smile.

  “That was then. This is now.”

  Still standing behind her, he slipped his arms right around her, crossing them in front, and gave her a friendly little hug. It was the kind of thing Luke did easily without it meaning anything. She could see the two of them reflected in the dark window, their faces side by side.

  You’re weakening, said the warning voice. Any moment you’re going to succumb to his charm. And you promised yourself not to.

  She moved, turning in the circle of his arms just enough to make him break his hold. “Can I have some more of that wine?”

  “Sure. Sit down,” he said cheerfully.

  He filled her glass and asked, “How are things back home, your family and so on?”

  “My father died five years ago. We hadn’t seen much of each other. I took Josie to see him but it wasn’t a success, and he and I had nothing to say to each other. Clarice remarried fairly soon after his death. What about your parents?”

  “They’re going strong, still living in Manhattan. Like Tommy, they bought their house before the property prices shot through the roof. My brother Zak and sister Becky are both earning more than Dad ever did, but they can’t afford to buy around here so they’re still living at home. What about Frank and Elly? Did they have that crowd of kids they wanted?”

  “Not even one, I’m afraid. And they haven’t had any luck adopting. The highlight of their lives is when I take Josie to visit.”

  “Poor little soul.”

  “They adore her, and they’re very kind people.”

  “I believe you. It’s just that I can’t imagine a worse fate for a kid than having Frank as a father.”

  “Josie’s very fond of him. But I must admit she finds him a bit slow.”

  “Slow, boring, narrow-minded, pompous…”

  “All right, all right,” she laughed. “He admires you, too.”

  “Rackety, he said I was, didn’t he?”

  “Yes, well, he knew one when he saw one.”

  “Thanks. You always knew how to give it to me right between the eyes.”

  “I saw through you and out the other side.”

  “Not always. I pulled a few fast ones that you knew nothing about.”

  Something stabbed at her heart. He was going to say he’d been seeing another girl all those years ago. But how? He’d spent every moment with her.

  “So tell me about these fast ones you pulled?” she said as casually as she could. “Had a whole harem I didn’t know about, did you? The Romeo of the Ritz we used to call you. Girl on each floor.”

  “It’s nothing like that. I might be many kinds of a jerk, Pippa, but I wasn’t that kind of a jerk.” He added conscientiously, “Not with you, anyway. While we were together, you were the only one.”

  Her heart stilled its unruly beating, but she was shocked at herself for the fierceness of her relief. It shouldn’t have mattered. But it had mattered terribly.

  He went on. “But I had other little angles that you knew nothing about.”

  “Oh, yeah?” she said in the old way.

  “Oh, yeah!”

  She leaned toward him. “Oh, yeah?”

  He leaned to her. “Oh, yeah!”

  “OH, YEAH?”

  “OH, YEAH!”

  They burst out laughing together, and she fell back on the sofa, stretching out luxuriously. It was comfortable, the brandy was good, and she was beginning to relax.

  “That was almost the first thing we said to each other,” he said. “Remember?”

  “I remember you turning up in Green Park to find me missing, throwing up your hands to the skies and crying, ‘Please, please, no!”’

  “You imagined that!”

  “No way!” she teased. “You were really desperate at the thought that I might not be there.”

  “Yes, I was,” he said unexpectedly. “It mattered. But then you came back—because of course you found me irresistible—”

  “Oh, really?”

  “So I took pity on you—” He saw her eyeing him balefully, and his expression became suddenly rueful. “If you hadn’t come back I was going to turn the Ritz inside out looking for you. And then I was going to go on my knees asking forgiveness, offering you a big bunch of roses—now what?”

  “I’m sorry, Luke,” she choked. “But I can’t keep a straight face when you talk like that.”

  “You fell for it last time,” he said aggrieved.

  “You didn’t talk like that last time. Roses? You?”

  “I’d have bought you roses if I’d had any money. I just never did.”

  “No, we didn’t have two pennies to rub together, did we?”

  “And we didn’t care,” he said slowly.

  “No, we didn’t care.”

  She stretched again as luxuriously as a cat. Luke regarded her, marveling that she still had the same figure that he recalled, slender, lithe and flexible. Memories were coming back to him, how pert and saucily elegant she’d been when she was naked, and how filled with acrobatic energy. Exhausting, and how! Why, he remembered—

  He wondered self-consciously if she could read his thoughts in his face, but she was lying full-out with her eyes closed and a contented smile on her face. With an effort he clothed the naked vision. Clothes, that was it. Think of clothes quickly. She could always carry off the most outrageous garments.

  That’s what was different, he realized. She was wearing slacks and sweater that were pleasant enough, even attractive, but not designed to be eyecatching.

  He got up suddenly. “I’ll be back.”

  He vanished, and a few moments later she heard a “ping” from the telephone extension on a low table beside her. She could just make out the murmur of Luke’s voice from the kitchen. He was gone about ten minutes.

  “I had to make some calls to clear the time for you and Josie,” he said. “The only thing I couldn’t cancel was recording the show. You might like to come and see that.”

  “Mmm, lovely. Josie will be thrilled to be in a TV studio.”

  “But you won’t want to sit there for two solid days. Why don’t you take a shopping trip on the second day—my treat? Go to Rodeo Drive and buy yourself and Josie some knock-out clothes.”

  “Luke, even I’ve heard of Rodeo Drive and what it costs to shop there.”

  “I told you, it’s my treat. You take my card and buy anything you want.”

  Pippa was silent for a moment, then she sat up. She was looking at him in a way that worried him, although he couldn’t think why.

  “This wouldn’t be your gold card you’re offering me, would it Luke?” And there was no doubt about it, he thought. Her voice was definitely unfriendly.

  “Yes, it would, if that matters.”

  “The one you gave Dominique, no doubt?”

  “Well—yes.”

  “Fine. That’s what gold cards are for—popsies. Dominique is a popsie. I’m the mother of your child. There’s a big difference.”

  Silence. Then he drew a long, careful breath. “Oh, boy! I really screwed up, didn’t I?”

  She relented. “Just a little. Sorry, I didn’t mean to get heavy, but it just didn’t
feel right.”

  “What about Josie? Can’t I buy her some pretty dresses?”

  “Josie hates pretty dresses. She thinks they’re for wimps. She wears jeans with sweaters, jeans with jackets, jeans with T-shirts. Since it’s so hot here she might try shorts, but if you offer her a pretty dress she’ll probably put arsenic in your coffee.”

  Her joking tone had restored the atmosphere. She’d immediately regretted her little flare of temper, but there was something about being put on Dominique’s level that had offended her to the soul. She’d been more to Luke than that, and although those days were over, she would die before letting him rank her with the crowd.

  Then it struck her that the idly used cliché wasn’t a cliché with her, but perhaps the bitter truth, and suddenly she couldn’t stand any more of this conversation.

  “I need another good sleep to get rid of my jet lag,” she said hurriedly. “Good night, Luke.”

  “You’re not still mad at me, are you?”

  “No, I’m not mad at you. How could I be? You’ve been wonderful today. How many men would have taken it as well as you did? It’s meant the world to Josie.”

  He wanted to ask, “And you?” But a rare spurt of wisdom kept him quiet.

  She regarded him fondly. “Good night.”

  Luke found himself faced with an unexpected problem of protocol. The lady was charming, it was late, they had talked and smiled, they were mellow with wine. The next stage was to kiss her. Standard procedure.

  But for this particular lady the standard procedure wouldn’t do. Suddenly he, the most subtly experienced bachelor in L.A.—okay, say the whole world—was in unknown territory. How did you treat the mother of your kid whom you’d just re-met after eleven years? She was lovely, and you felt at ease with her, like parents should be, so it ought to be simple, right?

  Wrong!

  Wrong because she brought memories of the sexiest time of your life, memories that made you horny just to think of them. Yet now she was like a different woman, with all the mystery of unexplored territory. And the mixture of the new and the familiar was driving you crazy.

  But she solved the problem by yawning and heading for the door, pausing only to give your hand a squeeze—a squeeze, for Pete’s sake! The last time a girl squeezed your hand you’d been on the back porch, with Mom breathing loudly behind the kitchen door, just in case you thought you were going to get away with anything. You didn’t then, and you knew you weren’t going to now.

  So you played it cool, jumping to your feet and saying heartily, “Right, right. Big day tomorrow. Need plenty of sleep.”

  Then you realized you were babbling and made yourself shut up.

  Just to turn the knife a little she looked back to smile, and there was something in that smile you’d never seen before, a shadowed quality, that only made her more mysterious. When she went on to her room, you stayed where you were, not daring to move until the silence told you she’d gone to bed.

  And then you went and had a cold, cold shower.

  In the early hours of the morning Pippa crept into the front room. The curtains were drawn back from the huge window so that she had a glorious view of the ocean, almost still in the dawn light. She sat down by the phone, and called Frank in England. He answered so quickly that Pippa knew he’d been sitting by it.

  “Just to let you know we landed safely,” she said cheerfully.

  “Does Luke know you’re there?”

  “Yes, he greeted us with open arms. Josie was thrilled.”

  “Pippa—”

  “It’s true, so you can take that disbelieving note out of your voice.”

  “The important thing is, how are you feeling?”

  “Pretty good. The flight left me a bit tired—”

  “You’re lucky it didn’t kill you. Do you realize what a state your heart’s in?”

  “Of course. The doctor laid it on the line. Why do you think I’m here? Because I know there are things I must do while there’s time.”

  “And what happens if you collapse out there? Have you thought of Josie?”

  “This is all for Josie’s sake. It was important for Luke to know her.”

  “I don’t see why. He’s never taken any interest in her until now. You know Elly and I were against this trip, for your sake as much as hers.”

  “I can’t talk now,” Pippa said quickly. “Luke’s coming back.”

  “Which hotel are you in?”

  “We’re staying with him.”

  There was a silence from the other end, before Frank said sharply, “I see. Goodbye.”

  Pippa hung up. She hadn’t really heard Luke. She’d invented the excuse to end the call because she didn’t want to go over old ground. Conversations with Frank were always fraught because neither of them could say what was really in their mind.

  Frank couldn’t say, If you die I want Josie to fill the place of the child Elly and I never had, and I’m afraid of Luke in case he tries to claim her.

  And Pippa couldn’t say, You’re a kind man but limited. You’ll teach Josie the sensible things, but I want her to know the crazy ones, too—the things that only her true father can teach her.

  She smiled ruefully and went on in her head, talking perhaps to Frank and perhaps to herself.

  He’s not a solid, upright citizen. He’s tricky, unreliable and unscrupulous. He does what suits him and tap dances his way out of it afterward. But he’s warm and sweet, funny and charming, and he carries magic with him wherever he goes. He’s a taker and a user, but he gives back so much that it works out a fair bargain in the end.

  The light was growing stronger over the sea. She sat gazing at it, thrilled by the beauty of the sight.

  I’m glad, she thought, yes, I really am glad that I didn’t make him marry me all those years ago. Nature designed him to be a lover, not a husband.

  She’d had a bad moment when she’d thought he was about to admit to an old infidelity. She shouldn’t care now, but she did. Those few months still lived as the brightest, loveliest time of her life. Whatever the Luke of today was like, the Luke of yesterday had been all hers. And if she had lost that belief, her heart would have broken as cruelly today as it would have done then.

  She was awakened early by Josie, eager to be up and doing. “Come on Mommy, Daddy says when we’ve had breakfast he’ll take me to the beach and teach me to bodysurf. Please hurry.”

  “Surfing isn’t my style, darling. You and Daddy go, and I’ll have a nice, long lie in.”

  “Shall I bring you some coffee?”

  “Nope, I’m going right back to sleep. Have a nice time.” Pippa burrowed down in bed and pulled the clothes over her head.

  She had come prepared with a dozen little excuses for conserving her energy. Luckily this one worked, for she heard Josie creep out of the room, and half an hour later the two of them left the house. She slipped out and went to watch through the window as they crossed the Strand to the beach, dropped their outer clothes on the sand and raced, hand in hand, to the water. She tried to keep them in sight but they grew too small and were soon lost among the other bathers.

  She made herself some tea before indulging in a nice, long bath. Feeling good, she dressed in darkblue slacks and a white top, with just a twinge of regret for the delights of Rodeo Drive that she’d dismissed so firmly. But she didn’t really regret her decision to stick to her independence.

  As she was making a salad, a shadow appeared on the glass of the back door, and she heard a knock. Pippa opened the door and found herself regretting her decision by the cartload.

  A vision of money and beauty stood outside. She was in her mid-twenties and so lovely that Pippa nearly stared. But there was more to her effect than beauty. Claudia Lomax Benton had been wealthy all her life. Her clothes were created by top designers, she traveled with her own hairdresser, and the sheen of money lay on her like a glow. Suddenly Pippa’s clothes felt as though she’d rescued them from a garbage dump.

  “Hello
,” said the vision. “I’m Claudia,” she said. “Is Luke here?”

  “No, he’s on the beach,” Pippa said, standing back to let her enter. “I’m Pippa Davis.”

  Claudia enveloped Pippa in a scented embrace. “I’ve been longing to meet you. Everyone’s talking about you.”

  She didn’t define everyone. This wasn’t the moment for Claudia to mention Dominique, who’d called her with a garbled tale of a schemer who’d gotten her claws into Luke.

  The child isn’t even his, the model had wailed. Anyone can see that, but poor Luke is completely taken in.

  And Claudia had said, Don’t be a fool, Dominique. Luke never does anything that doesn’t suit Luke. I adore him, but I’m wise to him.

  “Talking about me?” Pippa echoed.

  “You and Josie. Is she on the beach with him?”

  “Yes, he’s teaching her to bodysurf.” Pippa was filled with a sinking dismay. This wasn’t a vulgar popsie like Dominique. This was oil wells and Cartier and class and utter self-confidence.

  “I thought he might turn out to be on the beach,” Claudia said, pulling at the buttons of her simple blue linen dress. “So I came prepared.” She tossed the dress aside, revealing a black one-piece. “Come on, let’s go and join them.”

  That was what money did for you, made it possible for you to walk in on a stranger, scoop them up and take them swimming. Protests died on Pippa’s lips, and before she knew it, she’d donned her own costume and was crossing the road with Claudia.

  Her dark-crimson one-piece was beautiful against her hair and warm skin, but against the glorious Claudia she felt like a dowdy schoolgirl. Then she forgot to be self-conscious in the pleasure of seeing Josie shrieking with excitement as her father taught her the secrets of riding the big waves that came rolling onto the beach. She had obviously taken to it, because Pippa could hear her cry, “Again, Daddy, again!” And Luke grinned, proud of her style and intrepidity.

  “Is that your daughter?” Claudia asked, her eyes on them.

  “Yes—and Luke’s,” Pippa replied.

  At that moment Luke spotted them and came bounding out of the surf, Josie’s hand clasped in his. He enveloped Claudia in an exuberant hug, unselfconsciously pulling her against his bare, glistening torso. Pippa braced herself for a similar greeting, but he only smiled at her and nodded. Which was fine, she told herself.