After the Storm (The Americana Series Book 6)

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After the Storm (The Americana Series Book 6) Page 5

by Janet Dailey


  "I'm glad you don't mind him coming over." Lainie squeezed her mother's hand. "It's time I was getting ready. You can do me another favor by cleaning up your dinner while I'm changing."

  "I will."

  Lainie blew the fragile figure a kiss as she walked through the door adjoining her own bedroom. Money, she thought angrily; why did every conversation always seem to revolve around money? Or was she just being sensitive because of the phone call this afternoon, which could have ended many of their problems if only she hadn't allowed her stubborn pride to intervene? She adjusted the water temperature before turning the shower on full force in her ornate black and gold bathroom. In minutes she was undressed and standing under the needle-sharp spray of water, turning so that it could pelt every inch of her and drive out this angry depression that held her.

  With the taps turned off, Lainie stepped out of the shower stall and swaddled herself in the large white terry towel, slipping her feet into white mules. Feeling somewhat refreshed, her skin tingling from the force of the pellets of water, Lainie stopped in front of the mirror. She pushed a stray lock of her hair back with the rest piled on top of her head, secured with an oversized pin, before reaching for the jar of moisturizing cream for her face.

  The doorbell sounded downstairs, causing Lainie to glance sharply at her gold watch lying on the dressing table. It was too early for it to be Lee, unless he had decided to come sooner. Impatiently she stepped into her culotte-styled lounging robe, the spring green, dotted Swiss fabric enhancing the whiteness of her complexion. She was starting to let her hair down when the bell sounded again.

  If only he had given her another quarter of an hour before arriving, she thought uselessly as she sped from her room and down the open staircase, she could have been all ready. The words were already forming in her mind to excuse herself a few more minutes as she flung open the front door.

  Her mouth remained open, but no words came out as she stared into the granite-hard face of Rad. The unmistakable fire of challenge in his eyes caused her to step aside, allowing him entry into her home.

  "Surely you aren't surprised to see me," he drawled, his eyes raking the thin fabric of her gown with sardonic amusement. "Mr. Thomas passed on your message."

  Lainie's hand reached up to clutch the high neckline tighter together, knowing full well that the material was clinging to her still damp skin and emphasizing her curves thoroughly. She turned away as if giving in to the desire to flee from him before pivoting back to face him. She did glance hesitantly up the stairs toward her mother's door.

  "If you received my message, then I don't see why you're here." Lainie kept her voice low, not wishing her mother to overhear their voices and recognize Rad's "I thought I made myself clear. There isn't anything more to discuss."

  "That's where you're wrong." His sharply clipped statement revealed the tight hold he had on his temper.

  Lainie swallowed convulsively as her eyes roamed nervously over his impeccably tailored blue suit and the gleaming white shirt that contrasted sharply with the golden tan of his skin. Rad still could make her feel vulnerable and inadequate. There was that air of authority about him that always made her arguments seem so futile.

  "Then say whatever it is that you've come to say and leave." But her words were choked, betraying his ability to disturb her.

  "Here?" Rad's eyebrow lifted in questioning mockery. "Wouldn't it be better to go into the living room where our voices wouldn't carry so easily upstairs?"

  "Not the living room," Lainie rushed in, "the... the den would be better."

  "I prefer the living room." Rad glided past her before she could think of a sound excuse to prevent him.

  She stopped just inside the doorway, watching him as he glanced around the room. At first glance the room was elegantly Victorian, with ornate rose-covered chairs and matching sofa, but the discerning eye could pick up the rectangular patches on the wall where the paint was brighter than the rest. Lainie lifted her chin with defiant pride as Rad turned toward her.

  "I seem to recall some Impressionist paintings on that wall." To anyone else, Rad's comment would have sounded idly curious, but Lainie knew better.

  "We're having them rehung.

  "And the sculpture by Robbins that was on the mantel?"

  "It's been packed away. We got tired of it."

  "I see." Mockery curled the corner of his mouth. "Did you get tired of that vase your mother was so proud of, the one your father gave her?" Then he smiled smugly. "I suppose it got broken."

  "Yes," Lainie retorted sharply.

  "It would be interesting to take an inventory and find out how many valuable objects have either been packed away, are being rehung, or were broken." His eyelids lowered lazily to conceal the brilliant fire in his gaze as he studied her with unbearable penetration. "I suppose the jewelry was the first to be sold, wasn't it?"

  High color filled her cheeks as she wrapped her arms around herself and turned away from him. "Yes," she hissed, "yes, it was the first."

  "Do you know how much you owe? Have you any idea how deeply in debt you are?" Rad stepped closer to her, cold anger filling his face.

  She attempted to shrug his question aside, but he wouldn't allow her. He enumerated every creditor and the amount they were due with frightening correctness. Tears burned the back of her eyes, making them incredibly bright when she turned them on him.

  "Did it give you pleasure rooting out all our debts?" Her temper flared readily to her lips even though her chin trembled in humiliation. "Did it make you feel superior to discover how poor we've become?"

  "Damn you, Lainie! I'm trying to make things easier for you!" Rad's voice was raised to match hers.

  "How?" she demanded regarding him sarcastically "By thrusting your unwanted charity on us? By shaming us more?"

  "What do you expect me to do?" He glared at her, exasperated lines carved in his face. "Should I wait until you're eventually forced into bankruptcy? Until your mother and you are bundled into the streets? Am I supposed to treat you like common strangers and be completely unmoved by your plight?"

  "How very noble you are!" Lainie spat out at him. "Does it amuse you to become our benefactor? What am I supposed to do to repay you?"

  "Nothing! I don't expect any repayment from you," Rad growled through tightly clenched teeth. "You need the money and I'm prepared to see that you get it. It's as simple and uncomplicated as that!"

  "With you, nothing is simple and uncomplicated." Her hands were doubled into fists held rigidly at her side. "I won't deny that we need the money, but I won't take a cent of your money. Do you hear me! I don't want your money!"

  "You want me to stand by and see you humiliated and embarrassed in front of all your friends, to watch you lose your pride and self-respect, is that it?" He studied her contemptuously.

  "Are you afraid they'll blame you?" Lainie challenged. "Do you think they'll condemn you for not stepping forward to help me? Well, don't worry. I'll be sure to tell them of your generosity."

  "You crazy little bitch!" Rad grasped her shoulders and shook her hard, dislodging the tears that had remained precariously on the brim of her eyes. "Do you think I care what people say? It doesn't matter to me. It's you I'm worried about."

  The pin holding her hair on top of her head unsnapped, sending her dark curls cascading around her face in abundant disarray. The shaking stopped, but her shoulders remained in his grip while her hands rested on the muscular hardness of his chest. A stillness permeated the air between them as Rad studied the tears trickling down her cheeks. Her lips were parted to protest, but Lainie found it impossible to speak. The harshness of his gaze silenced her while inside her senses were vibrating from his closeness.

  "Why, Lainie?" his husky voice asked. "You've taken my name. You've taken me into your bed. Why can't you take my money?"

  "Rad, please let me go," she whispered. Her almond-shaped eyes pleaded with him to release her.

  He watched the scowl lift from his forehe
ad and the look in his eyes change from demand to mockery. And her frightened heart took off at a frantic pace. There was a slight negative movement of his head before he brutally drew her closer to him. One hand gripped the back of her neck with painful fierceness while the other hand slid to the small of her back and forced her body to mold to the, hardness of his. Lainie struggled ineffectually against him, but succeeded only in drawing his laughter.

  "You want me to," Rad jeered. "It's there in your eyes. It was always like this between us. We fought as violently as we made love."

  "No!" Her protest was a breathless murmur even as her pulse leaped in anticipation of his kiss.

  Rad didn't disappoint her. His mouth descended on hers with cruel authority, bruising, commanding, possessing, until he at last evoked the response from her that he had been seeking. When his hands firmly moved her away from him, it took only one glance at the satisfied glint in his eyes for Lainie to bow her head in humiliation, her heart aching that she hadn't had the strength to resist him.

  "There hasn't been anyone else since me, has there?" Rad's rhetorical question brought her chin up so her eyes, glittering with shame and hurt, could gaze accusingly at him.

  Lainie had no ready retort on her lips and no lie came to her mind. But the need to reply was saved by the tinkling of her mother's bell. Rad made no effort to hold her as she moved away on quivering legs. Yet she heard his light footsteps behind her as she made her way into the foyer and to the staircase. She paused once halfway up the steps to glance down at him. His enigmatic dark eyes stared back and Lainie raced the rest of the way to the top.

  "Did you want something, mother?" Lainie left the door open as she entered the bedroom.

  "Was that the Walters boy at the door? I thought perhaps he could come talk to me. Lainie, you're not dressed!" Her voice rang out with amazing clarity.

  "I will be shortly." Lainie had difficulty smiling and her hands shook as she removed the tray of dishes from her mother's bed. "Lee hasn't arrived yet, but when he does, I'll see if he can come up for a few minutes."

  She didn't want to prolong the conversation and moved swiftly toward the door.

  "Then who rang the doorbell?"

  Lainie paused in the doorway to glance down to the bottom of the stairs where Rad stood casually studying the cigarette in his hand, but hearing every word.

  "Just a salesman," she answered harshly. "I'm having trouble getting rid of him."

  "Well, just tell him you don't want anything."

  "I'll do that." Lainie closed the door behind her.

  She made her way slowly down the steps, deliberately avoiding meeting the glittering depths of Rad's gaze. At the bottom of the steps she brushed past him, turning down the hallway toward the kitchen with Rad following. Once in the kitchen, she set the tray on the counter and began clattering the dishes into the sink, fighting the urge to hurl one of them at him. Rad merely leaned negligently against the counter a few feet away.

  "So Lee Walters is still hanging around?"

  There was a razor-sharp edge to his jeering voice that caused Lainie to glance up. The chilling indifference of his expression reminded her unwillingly of a coiled rattlesnake.

  "He isn't 'hanging around,'" Lainie retorted sharply. "This is the first time I've seen him in years. Not that it's any of your business.

  "You are still legally my wife."

  "By whose choice?" She spun angrily around. "Not by mine, I can assure you. Maybe I got tired of all your threats of bringing false charges of adultery against me if I tried to sue for divorce. Maybe I've decided to make them real."

  A cold shaft of fear pierced her as she watched Rad uncoil and move toward her, the rage glittering in his eyes. He halted inches away. Lainie saw the muscles move as he clenched his jaw while he successfully controlled his temper.

  "You're wasting your time threatening me, Lainie. I wouldn't be the one to suffer the consequences of such an act." Rad was now icy cool and contemptuous.

  She had long known the bitter truth of his statement. It would be she who suffered the degradation and not Rad. The utter futility of the situation washed over her.

  "Why don't you just leave, Rad? We have nothing more to say to each other." Lainie suddenly felt exhaustedly tired. Speaking was an effort. "I've refused your offer. Even though I'm probably being ridiculously noble, at least let me keep some of my pride."

  "You can keep your pride." A muscle twitched near his mouth. "I don't know how long it will feed you or pay for the care that your mother is going to need. I didn't make an open-ended offer to you. If I choose to make a similar offer later, you can be sure the conditions will be different." His gaze roamed over her tear-brightened eyes and belligerent expression with analytical indifference. "I won't ask you to accompany me to the door. I'll find my own way out."

  Chapter Five

  REMOVING THE SAVORY balls of what had been leftover ham from the oven, Lainie placed them in a warmed serving dish. The fondue sauce of tomato, cheese and onions had already been reheated and was emitting its tantalizing aroma from its earthenware dish. She placed the chafing dish containing the sauce on its fondue burner and carried it into the living room, where the crunchy cubes of bread were waiting with the serving plates and wooden-handled forks. Returning to the kitchen, she untied the apron that had protected her cream pantsuit and adjusted the multicolored sash around her waist.

  She had just left the kitchen carrying the dish of delicately spiced ham balls when the front doorbell rang. This time it had to be Lee, Lainie asserted silently. Her composure couldn't take another visit from Rad. Thankfully she didn't have to worry as she opened the door to the gentle smiling face belonging to Lee Walters.

  "I thought I was supposed to be the one bearing gifts," he jested, sniffing appreciatively at the fragrant aroma coming from the dish in her hand.

  "I made a fondue." Lainie explained unnecessarily. "I was just taking these ham balls into the living room when the doorbell rang."

  "Do you suppose rose wine goes with fondue?" Lee asked. There was a humorous tilt to his eyebrows as he withdrew the bottle of wine he had been holding behind his back.

  "My mother always told me you could never go wrong with rose wine. Why don't you take it on into the living room while I go get the glasses?" Lainie laughed, then handed him the dish she had been carrying. "Here, take this, too."

  Lee accepted it obligingly. The nonsensical conversation relaxed Lainie's nerves, still jumbled from Rad's visit. Not that anything was going to allow her to forget that he had come. That would be like asking for the moon. As she gathered the wineglasses together from their nook in the kitchen cupboards, she knew a sense of relief that Lee was going to keep her company this evening. The revelation of her own still vitally alive emotions where Rad was concerned had had a traumatic effect. It was frightening to learn that Rad still had the ability to make her respond so wantonly. Lainie was hesitant to dwell upon the reasons for this. The idea that she still might be in love with him was a thought that she didn't want to face.

  That was the reason she allowed herself to be drawn into Lee's lighthearted air of frivolity. When she re-entered the living room she found Lee already sampling the savory meatballs liberally dipped in the fondue sauce. He had such an enchantingly guilty expression on his face, like a little boy just caught tasting the icing on a cake, that it made her feel young and carefree.

  "You caught me snitching!" Lee reached out for the wineglasses and the corkscrew.

  "I take that as a compliment that you couldn't resist my cooking," Lainie laughed, watching as he expertly opened the bottle of wine.

  "Too true," Lee agreed. He poured equal portions of the light red wine into the stemmed glasses, handing one to Lainie and keeping one for himself. Then he raised his toward her in a gesture of a toast. "To many more delicious fondues, and many more bottles of wine, and to many more evenings with you."

  It was difficult meeting his gaze, his blue eyes sparkling as brightly as the pal
e red wine. Lainie raised her glass in acknowledgment of the toast, knowing Lee had given it sincerely, yet not knowing how true she wanted it to be. Lee seemed to sense this, and with the understanding that Lainie admired so much in him, he immediately set forth to change that slightly serious tone. In minutes they were both attacking the light repast, dipping crunchy cubes of bread into the fondue sauce.

  Later, their appetites replete, they jointly relaxed against the back of the sofa, Lee patting his tummy in satisfaction. He reached inside his suitcoat pocket and withdrew a silver cigarette case. He flipped it open and extended it to Lainie.

  "No, thank you," Lainie refused. "I don't smoke."

  Lee glanced significantly at the marble inlaid end table beside him and the crystal ashtray containing two cigarette butts. Unconsciously Lainie followed his gaze, the light color fading from her cheeks when she saw the object of his puzzling glance. Realizing that Lainie had noticed the reason for, his inquiry, Lee felt he had to explain.

  "I thought maybe you'd taken up the filthy habit," he jested. His expression plainly said that she didn't need to tell him who had been there.

  Patting back any imaginary strands of hair that might have loosened themselves from her Gibson Girl coiffure, Lainie fought to control her rising tension. It seemed silly to conceal the fact that Rad had been there. Yet it was equally unnecessary to tell Lee of his visit. For five years she had tried to shut Rad out of her thoughts and her life. That hadn't succeeded. Perhaps the best course would be to treat the subject of Rad casualty.

  "Those are probably Rad's." She busied her hands collecting together the serving plates and forks, feeling Lee's gaze upon her, yet not ready to meet it. "He called in today."

  She tried to make it sound like a natural thing, but Lee had been at the concert and he knew better. His hand reached out for her comfortingly. She watched the struggle in his face as he tried to find words to express his feelings. She smiled at him reassuringly, letting him know that she had escaped the confrontation nearly unscathed.

 

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