New Year’s Eve three years ago had opened her eyes. It was late, and Kali was ready to leave. The party turned out to be much wilder than she had anticipated, and she was eager to return home to their daughter. While looking for her husband she hadn’t expected to find a very naked Blayne in one of the guest-room beds with a well-endowed blonde. Afraid that this wasn’t the first time it had happened, she fled downstairs and searched for the bar. She needed something to ease the pain of her husband’s infidelity. She also wanted revenge.
Kali consumed several double Scotches, a great departure from her usual glass of wine, and looked around for her victim. Then she spied the tall, mustached man standing near the patio door. She knew him as Travis Yates, a popular photographer, although they had never worked together, since he didn’t shoot fashion layouts. He was known as a rebel and somewhat of a ladies’ man, so she deemed him perfect for the game she was determined to play. Forcing her most seductive smile, she sauntered over to him. From there, it was almost too easy. Little did she know that the man’s unconscious and very potent charm would hit her right between the eyes.
They headed outside and ended up in a deserted cabana not far from the pool area. Kisses and intimate caresses were shared, words of desire whispered, and clothes were beginning to be shed when a woman’s voice sounded nearby.
“Did you see little Miss Modest Kali Hughes with Travis Yates?” she said in a slurred voice. “And here I thought she didn’t look at other men, even though her husband’s slept with every woman at this party!”
“Honey, if anyone should know about that stud, I do. I’ve had firsthand experience!” the other woman commented with a drunken giggle. “Wouldn’t it be funny if Kali and Travis were off screwing around like Blayne and Gloria are upstairs?”
The crude words had been more effective than a cold shower for Kali. She pulled away, apologized tearfully to Travis, and stumbled out of the cabana, anxious to get as far away as possible. What she hadn’t expected was that he would follow her in his car to insure that she reached home safely. During her long drive she imagined him watching her with those haunting dark eyes. He walked her to her door, flashed a brief smile, and left her with a softly spoken apology. She sensed it was meant as a sympathetic gesture after overhearing the woman’s comments about her husband and had nothing to do with their aborted lovemaking. Kali was mortified that she’d allowed her guard to lower so abruptly, and vowed she would make sure not to see Travis Yates again. When Blayne arrived home hours later, she never mentioned seeing him with the blonde. It wasn’t that much later when she began divorce proceedings, and any lingering thoughts of Travis Yates were pushed to the back of her mind. Until now.
“You thought going to bed with me would make everything right.” Travis’s blunt words intruded on her painful thoughts.
“Except that I didn’t go to bed with you,” she said, correcting him in a harsh voice.
“No, but if we hadn’t heard those women, we would have made love.”
“We would have had sex.”
He shook his head. “Oh, Kali, it still upsets you, doesn’t it?” he asked gently, his eyes warm with an unspoken emotion. “It still bothers you that when I touched you, you responded to me, asking me to—”
“No,” she cried, shaking her head and holding her hands over her ears to keep out the insistent sound of his voice. She turned away, but he refused to let her escape him. He pulled her hands away, spinning her around to face him.
“Listen to me, Kali. You’ve twisted this all around in your mind. I didn’t unzip your dress that night, you did. You were the one who kept asking me to make love to you, telling me how much you wanted me. You were the one who came on to me so strongly.”
“Stop it!” Kali screamed. “Just stop it! I don’t want to hear this.”
“At first you did it out of revenge because your husband was cheating on you. Then you changed after I first touched you. You felt the electricity flowing between us, so don’t deny it. I’ve read your story, Kali, so I know what you were feeling.”
Kali’s eyes flew open, the expression a combination of shock and horror.
“How do you know about that? Jenny, she told you! She promised she wouldn’t show it to anyone!” Her voice rose hysterically. “How could she have done this to me?”
“She didn’t show it to me, Kali.” He lowered his voice, hoping to calm her. “Jenny kept her promise. I found it by accident and read it.”
Kali breathed deeply to regain her composure. “My name wasn’t anywhere on the story, so how did you find out I wrote it?”
“I bullied the author’s name out of her. Believe me, she didn’t have a chance.”
She smiled wanly. “No one can bully Jenny, and we both know it.” She freed herself and walked to the other side of the room, her head bent in despair.
Travis told her, “I read it and it gave me the idea for my next book.”
“You’re a photographer, not a publisher.”
“True,” he conceded. “Just remember that when I first read it, I had no idea who the author was, but it did tell me that it was written by someone familiar with pain, and strength was born from that pain. That’s when I thought about a book dealing with women of strength. And the person I most wanted to photograph was the author of ‘Human Frailties.’ “
“No!” Kali shouted, spinning around. “When I left L.A., I vowed I wouldn’t go before the camera again, and I mean to keep that vow. I didn’t write it just to begin a new career and return to the public eye.”
His patience was being sorely tested. “Kali, I don’t give a damn what you do with that story. Burn it, throw it away, publish it, I just don’t care. When I thought of the author of ‘Human Frailties’ posing for my book, I didn’t care if she was tall, short, thin, fat, or had a wart on the end of her nose. All I knew was that if she had the character to write such stirring words, she had that same character in her face, and I wanted to capture it on film.”
Kali pressed her fingertips against her temples in a feeble attempt to ease the pain raging through her head. Writing about her marriage had helped banish some of the demons haunting her since the divorce. She’d let Jenny read it only because it had been due to her urging that Kali had undertaken the task. The words were private, full of a woman’s intimate thoughts. She hadn’t expected anyone else to read it —especially someone like Travis, who would see far more in the words than she cared him to.
“This could be just what you need,” he said quietly, walking over to stand behind her. “You can go back to L.A. in a blaze of glory and show everyone you don’t give a damn what they think of you.”
“I don’t give a damn now.”
He placed his hands on her shoulders. “Oh, but you do. If you didn’t care, you’d still be living there holding your head high and smiling that icy, ‘damn-the-world’ smile you’re so fond of bestowing on people. Instead, you’re hiding out here where your friends can’t find you.”
Kali turned around and stepped back out of his reach. “It didn’t take very long to learn exactly who my friends were, and I can count them on one hand. I wanted to be where life was uncomplicated, where no one cared what kind of car you drove or what hairdresser you went to. Where all that mattered was that you did your work. No one around here cares what designer label you wear on your clothes, or what exclusive resort you’re going to on your vacation. These people keep to themselves, and outsiders are not tolerated. But if you’re in trouble, they’ll be the first to help without it seeming like charity, because they’re proud as hell. I didn’t run away; I left a town with no heart for one with more soul than anywhere else in the world. I only wish I had realized that when I was younger. And when my daughter is returned to me, we’ll continue living here. I want her to grow up among people with the right kind of values.”
“Did you ever stop to think that you might have a better chance of finding Cheryl if you were back in L.A. where you can make the proper contacts?” Travis wander
ed around the room, picking up a color photograph of a smiling toddler, obviously Cheryl, with her mother’s hair color and eyes.
“I have an excellent attorney in charge of the case, so there is no need for me to live where I don’t care to. And this is as good a place as any to close the subject. I suggest you pack your things and get on the road before dark. After all, you wouldn’t want to meet up with an unfortunate accident on an unfamiliar road, would you?” Her insincere smile told him she hoped he would do just that.
Travis’s mustache twitched with amusement. “Lady, you’ve been so hot under the collar, you haven’t noticed that the rain’s started up again. It appears you have me as a guest for a while longer, like it or not.”
Kali’s face reddened as she seriously thought about screaming the rafters down. This time maybe she’d just toss him out, rain or no rain. Why was this happening to her just when she felt more like her old self again? Was someone playing some macabre joke on her? She could tell by the smug expression on Travis’s face that he figured on talking her into posing for
him. Well, she hoped he didn’t mind a long wait, because it would be a cold day in hell before she returned to L.A. and posed in front of a camera again.
Chapter 4
LJ Travis didn’t like having a roommate, especially a woman. After all, they left their cosmetics scattered all over the bathroom counter; likewise their clothing in the bedroom. And they always seemed to be on the latest fad diet, whether that meant high-protein, high-carbohydrate, all fruits and vegetables, or no food at all. Oh, how they could talk about dieting!
Kali wasn’t that way at all. For one thing, she didn’t use any cosmetics other than cleanser and a moisturizer he found in the bathroom cabinet. And his few glances inside her bedroom told him that she was scrupulously neat. Judging by the way she ate, she didn’t seem to know about that nasty four-letter-word—diet. And as for talking his ear off, well, he certainly didn’t have to worry about that. She ignored him more often than not, which alternately amused and irritated him.
This new Kali Hughes was a revelation. Once known as a gracious and warm hostess, she made life for Travis just barely tolerable. She talked to him only when necessary; the only meal she cooked for two was dinner, and then it was always something more suited to a woman’s delicate appetite than a man’s hearty one. She read a lot in the evening, while Travis usually watched videotapes. All he knew was that if the intermittent rain continued much longer, he might kill her after all. He was well on his way to getting cabin fever, not to mention having erotic ideas every time he looked at Kali.
As for Kali, she hated to admit that Travis wasn’t a bad houseguest; he never left a mess in the bathroom, and didn’t try to force his company on her in the evenings. She only wished she could ignore him altogether. Then life would be the way it used to be.
No, she thought, silently correcting herself. She could never feel that inner peace again. Travis had stirred things up so much that she could never go back to her quiet life.
As was her pattern during the past few days, Kali rose earlier than her normal hour, fixed herself breakfast, and went out to the barn to care for her horses. Travis had offered to help, but she refused curtly, wanting that time to herself. She was grateful he didn’t offer again.
It was the third evening of their enforced confinement, and Kali was feeling restless. She sat in the easy chair, trying to watch the tape Travis had put in the VCR.
Why did he have to look so damn comfortable? she thought, resenting him for fitting into her home so easily. He lounged on the couch, his sock-covered feet propped on the edge of the coffee table, hands clasped behind his head as he watched the comedy film.
“Say, do you have any popcorn?” he asked suddenly, turning his face in her direction.
“No.” Her gaze was as stony as Mount Rushmore.
Travis sighed. “And here my mouth was drooling for a big bowl of popcorn loaded with salt and real butter.”
“Try Bixby’s movie theater.”
During her lifetime Kali had disliked few people. It wasn’t in her nature. Even her father she had feared more than hated. It took Blayne’s flagrant infidelities for her to begin to see the worst in people and despise herself for being so naive all those years, but even then she still didn’t hate him. Now she sat in the chair wishing she could hate Travis with his torso-fitting shirts, tight jeans, and rugged features that were neither handsome nor ugly. Even unshaven, he looked sexy as hell.
“Don’t you ever shave?” she blurted out, making it sound more like an accusation than a question.
Travis’s mustache twitched with amusement. “Is it Saturday?”
Her brow wrinkled. “No, but what does that have to do with it?”
“I shave on Saturdays.”
“Along with your Saturday-night bath?” She knew she sounded bitchy, but she couldn’t help it.
“Truth is, I hate to shave,” he confessed.
“Then why don’t you just grow a beard?”
“I hate beards just as much as I hate to shave.” Travis leaned back and closed his eyes, dreaming of a giant tub of butter-drenched popcorn. “Food has a bad habit of sticking to it, and you have to keep it trimmed for it to look good. Too much trouble.”
Kali sat there watching him, alternately wanting him to leave and hoping he would stay. She blamed her erratic emotions on unbalanced hormones. In the past three years she hadn’t been around a man under the age of sixty. What could she expect when confronted with a healthy male in the prime of life? If she had any brains at all, she’d kick him out in the morning and try to resume her old way of life.
Kali kept that thought in mind when she woke up the next morning. She showered and dressed quickly, wanting to have her breakfast out of the way before Travis got up. This time she wasn’t lucky. She entered the kitchen to find Travis standing over the griddle, turning oddly shaped circles that bore a faint resemblance to pancakes.
“Good morning,” he said, greeting her with that endearingly crooked grin. “I thought I’d surprise you.”
“I thought you couldn’t cook.” She eyed him warily.
“I can’t, but I watched my dad and sister cook pancakes plenty of times. There’s really nothing to it,” he replied with faint surprise in his voice. He piled three golden, lopsided pancakes on a plate and set it on the table, gesturing for her to sit. He took six for himself and sat across from her. He pushed the bottle of warmed maple syrup her way. “Dig in.”
Kali poured syrup over her pancakes before cutting into them. She smiled slightly as she ate the first piece; just as suddenly the smile froze.
A leathery crust covered a substance she had to admit tasted like the library paste she’d eaten once in kindergarten. Come to think of it, the paste had tasted much better.
“How is it?” Travis asked, looking so hopeful, she couldn’t bear to hurt his feelings.
She managed a sickly grin as she swallowed the gooey lump. “Very good. It’s difficult to believe you’ve never really cooked before.”
Travis’s face lit up, proud that he had been able to do something nice for his hostess. “I can’t believe I did it right.” He dug into his own breakfast with gusto. Within moments his face contorted. “This tastes like sh—.” He stopped, wondering if it would be a proper description.
Kali’s lips quivered. “Like library paste.”
“You tried that culinary delight too?”
“When I was five.”
“I was much more precocious. I was three when I tried it.” Travis stood up and grabbed Kali’s plate along with his own.
“Just what did you put in them?”
“Flour, sugar, salt.” He tossed the pancakes into the trash.
“If you had explored the cabinets a bit more, you would have found a box of biscuit mix that can be used for making pancakes. And they have the recipe for them printed on the back. Let me give you a hint. One major ingredient in pancakes is eggs.” She opened the pantry door
and found the yellow box of buttermilk biscuit mix and quickly assembled the ingredients in a bowl.
Travis leaned against the counter, drinking his cup of coffee. Their truce was as fragile and delicate as a bone-china tea cup, but it was a beginning.
Kali had indeed relaxed a bit around Travis. It was hard not to when he was such an undemanding guest, though still an unwelcome one. But how could she stay angry with a man who made the absolute worst pancakes she had ever tasted?
After a breakfast of real pancakes Travis offered to help Kali in the barn, but she refused, still needing that precious time to herself. He smiled and shrugged his shoulders, saying he’d do the dishes while she was outside.
Ten minutes later, alone in the warm barn, Kali set to work cleaning the stalls and rubbing down each horse with extra care. The ground wasn’t as spongy today; in two or three days, if the good weather held, Travis would be able to leave her hill. So why wasn’t she eager to see him gone?
More than two hours later, Kali was pleasantly tired from her chores and ready for a hot shower to ease her aching muscles. She found Travis seated at the kitchen table, reading from a stack of papers, a cup of coffee near his left arm.
“The ground is almost dry enough—” she began, only to stop when she realized what he was reading. Suddenly she saw red. “No!” she cried, snatching the papers out of his hand and tearing them to pieces. “How can you do this to me?” she accused, her chest heaving.
Travis leaned back in his chair, looking very relaxed and unrepentant. “Why don’t you take a few deep breaths to calm yourself down.”
She drew in a deep breath. “I just wasn’t expecting to see you reading my manuscript.”
He leaned forward, looking at her with an intensity that was frightening. “Kali, you should be very proud of yourself. This is a beautiful piece of writing.”
Only Love Page 5
