by Diana Palmer
That cut, because it was how Wade had made her feel. She hesitated, then gave in gracefully. She really did want to go to the party with Wade, to get a taste of that luxurious other world. And her little black dress would only embarrass him.
“Okay,” she told Darcy. “You’re a pal. I wish I could do something for you.”
“You are,” came the smug reply. “You’re filling in for me Friday so that I can see that new picture with Arnold. Come over Saturday morning and we’ll fix you up.”
“I’ll be there at nine, with coffee and biscuits from the Red Barn, how’s that for true friendship?” She laughed.
“That’s true friendship,” Darcy agreed. “See you then.”
Eleanor excitedly told her father about her plans for Saturday, then went back into the kitchen to wash the breakfast dishes, frowning when she heard a car drive up in front. She peeked into the living room, and her heart leaped as Keegan walked into it, frowning and looking worried. He sat down and started talking to her father, fortunately not glancing toward the kitchen. She quickly drew back inside.
She was too far away to hear what was being said, but she had a terrible feeling it had something to do with her. Well, let them talk, it wouldn’t stop her. She liked Wade, she’d been in a state of hibernation for over a year, and she was tired of her own company. She wanted to get out and live a little before she turned into a vegetable or an old maid. And if Keegan didn’t like it, that was too bad. She didn’t care about his opinion. She didn’t care about him, either.
The kitchen door opened, and the object of her dark thoughts came into the room, hands rammed into the pockets of his pale slacks. She glanced at him and then concentrated on her dishes.
“Can I help you?” she asked carelessly.
“Your father says you’re going to a party at the Blakes’ with your new boyfriend.”
“So what if I am?” she asked coldly.
“You’re going to be out of your league, little girl,” he said bluntly. “They’ll eat you up.”
Her cheeks reddened with anger. She put the dishcloth down slowly and turned to face him, her dark eyes narrow and icy. “You don’t think I can behave like a lady, is that it?” she asked, glaring up at him. “Well, don’t worry, Mr. Taber, you won’t have to suffer my embarrassing presence. And I think the Blakes will manage not to laugh at me.”
“I didn’t mean… Damn it, girl, will you stop putting words in my mouth? I’m talking about Granger. I’ve already told you he’s a wolf! A rich, sleek, well-fed wolf with a big wallet, just fishing for a naive little girl like you to warm his bed!”
She turned and stared at him. “Just like you,” she agreed, and watched him explode, then turned back to her dishes. “Why are you worried about my morals? If I want to be corrupted by someone else, that’s my business. Besides, I’ve always wanted to make love suspended from a tree limb,” she added dryly.
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” he murmured, studying her. “Eleanor, you’re trying to fit into a world that has nothing of value to offer you.”
“Like yours?” she asked politely.
“I’m talking about you and Wade Granger! Aren’t you experienced enough to realize why he’s sniffing around you?”
He made it sound so cheap and vulgar! “I am not a tramp,” she replied through clenched teeth, “despite your efforts to make me feel like one.”
“When did I ever do that, Eleanor?” he asked in a deep, poignant tone, his eyes searching hers.
She didn’t want to remember that night. “If you want to stay to lunch, I’m making ham sandwiches,” she said abruptly, washing a plate hard enough to scrub half the pattern off.
He came up behind her, smelling of tangy cologne. She remembered the scent of it: it had clung to her body that night. It had been on her pillow when she awoke the next morning. It was a graphic reminder of her one lapse in a lifetime of sanity. The warmth of his body radiated toward her, warming her back, threatening her.
“I was careful with you that night,” he said, his voice velvety rough, warm. “More careful than I’ve ever been with a woman, before or since. Even afterward, I was tender. I’ve never been able to forget it, the way you wanted me at first, the wild little shudders, the sweet cries that pulsed out of you until I hurt you.”
“Please,” she whispered, closing her eyes. “I don’t want to remember!”
“You cried,” he murmured. His lean hands smoothed her waist, drew her back so that she rested against his powerful body. “You cried when I took you, looking straight into my eyes, watching…and I felt that you were a virgin, and I tried to stop, but I was so far gone…”
“No!” She wept, lowering her face.
His lips touched her hair, and his hands trembled. “You were fire and honey in my arms,” he whispered, “and I remember crying out because the pleasure was an agony.”
She tore out of his arms and retreated behind the table, looking across at him with dark, wounded eyes. “Go away!”
His eyes were dark blue with remembered desire, his face shadowed by the flash of light behind him through the curtains. “I will, but the memory won’t,” he said huskily.
“You used me,” she whispered brokenly, involuntarily, letting the hurt show, seeing how his face hardened. “You had a fight with your sophisticated girlfriend, and you took me out to spite her. And like a fool, I thought you’d asked me because you cared about me. It wasn’t until…until it was all over, until it was too late, that you told me the truth. I hated you then and I hate you now. I’ll hate you until I die, Keegan Taber!”
His eyes shifted to his boots, to the worn linoleum. “Yes, I know,” he said quietly.
“Will you please go?” she said in a defeated tone, refusing to look at him again. “My life is none of your business now. Nothing I do concerns you.”
“Do you want him?” he asked.
She went and opened the kitchen door. “Goodbye. Sorry you have to leave so suddenly,” she said with a bright, empty smile.
“I thought I was invited to lunch.”
“Do you really like arsenic?” she asked with raised eyebrows. “Because I’ve never been more tempted in my life.”
“Neither have I,” he agreed, but he was studying her slender, pretty figure with narrowed, blue-black eyes. “You’re exquisite, Eleanor. You always were, but maturity has done amazing things to your body.”
“I am more than a body,” she said curtly. “I’m a human being with thoughts and feelings and a few minor talents.”
“I know that, too…. Do you fancy a guardian angel, Eleanor?”
She blinked. “I don’t understand.”
“You will,” he said with a grim smile. “At least keep away from his apartment, can’t you? I hear he has a bed that begins at the doorway.”
She had to bite her tongue to keep from laughing, and his twinkling eyes very nearly threw her off balance.
“Well, that surely beats the backseat of a luxury car, wouldn’t you think…?” she asked with blatant mockery.
He sighed. “You won’t quit, will you? I don’t suppose you’d believe me if I told you I was so out of my head at the time that I wasn’t even thinking about anyone but you?”
“Right the first time,” she said, grinning carelessly. “Do you want a ham sandwich or don’t you?”
He pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and took his time lighting it. “I’m going to get around that wall you’ve built, one way or the other. You can make change on that.”
“Better buy a rocket launcher and a couple of grenades,” she told him. “You’re going to need them.”
“You may, if Romeo gets a foot in the door,” he said grimly. “Don’t worry your father, will you? He broods.”
“He’ll have to give me up one day,” she remarked.
“You aren’t thinking that Granger might propose, for God’s sake?” he burst out, laughing coldly. “Marry a sweet little nobody like you? Fat chance, honey.”
“I’m not your honey,” she shot back.
“You were,” he said, his voice rough and soft all at once, his eyes intent. “You were the sweetest honey I ever tasted.”
“The beehive is out of order,” she replied stiffly. “You’ll have to appease your appetite elsewhere.”
“There isn’t anywhere else,” he said absently, watching her as the cigarette smoldered in his hand, its glowing tip as red as his waving hair. “There hasn’t been for a long time.”
“I don’t believe in fairy tales,” she said. “If you’re quite through, I have things to do.”
He shrugged. “Turned out into the cold,” he said, watching her. “Heartless woman.”
“It’s spring, and it isn’t cold. And you’re one to be accusing someone of not having a heart.”
“You don’t think I have one, Eleanor?” He laughed. “You might be surprised at the bruises on it.”
“I would, if there were any.”
“Nurses are supposed to have compassion,” he reminded her.
“I have, for those who deserve it. I have dishes to wash, sandwiches to make….”
“Wash your damned dishes, and forget making any sandwiches for me,” he muttered, turning to go. “The way my luck’s running lately, you’d probably make mine with a live pig.”
She heard the door close and went back to her soapy water. It took a long time for her heart to calm down, and she thanked providence for removing his disturbing presence. She didn’t want to remember that night. Why couldn’t he go away and let her forget it? Just the sight of him was a constant reminder, an eternal opening of the wound. She closed her eyes and went quickly about her tasks.
Chapter Three
Early Saturday morning, Eleanor left her father sleeping soundly and drove to the Red Barn to get biscuits and coffee for herself and Darcy. The older nurse with whom she worked was still in her housecoat when Eleanor reached her small efficiency apartment downtown.
Darcy blinked, yawning, her pale brown eyes bloodshot, her round face blank. “Coffee and biscuits,” she murmured dreamily, closing her eyes to smell. “Wonderful!”
Eleanor laughed, following her friend into the apartment. The furniture was in about the same shape as that in Eleanor’s house, and she felt comfortable here. Not that Darcy would ever have put on airs, even if she’d had gobs of money. The two of them had become friends years before in high school. Darcy had done her nurse’s training in Lexington, while Eleanor had gone to Louisville. But now they found themselves working at the same hospital, and it was as if the four-year absence had never been. They were as much alike as ever and had fallen back into their easy, close relationship with no trouble at all. Only Darcy had known just how deeply in love Eleanor had been with Keegan, although Eleanor hadn’t told even her best friend the full extent of her stupidity. But Darcy knew why Eleanor had left town when Keegan announced his engagement because Eleanor had cried on her shoulder for hours afterward.
They sat at Darcy’s small white kitchen table and ate the fluffy sausage biscuits, washing them down with coffee. It was just after nine, and the city hadn’t started to buzz yet. Soon, however, the downtown traffic would be murder.
“I needed that. Thanks!” Darcy smiled.
“Oh, anytime.” Eleanor grinned. “Now, about that dress…”
Darcy burst out laughing. “You shrewd operator! Okay, come on in here and let’s look it over.”
It was a dream of a dress, silk chiffon that fell in soft folds around Eleanor’s slender body, a pale gray that emphasized her dark eyes and soft brown hair. She smiled at her reflection, liking the demure rounded neckline and the transparent sleeves that gathered at the cuff.
“It’s heavenly.” She sighed. “You’re sure you want to risk this with me?”
“I got it at a nearly new shop. It’s a designer model, only worn twice. Here are the shoes and bag.”
The shoes had small Queen Anne heels and straps around the ankles. They were elegant, like the tiny gray leather purse that finished the outfit.
“Wow, is that me?” Eleanor laughed at her reflection.
“Well, almost,” Darcy murmured. “Sweet, your hair is dreadful. I have to get a cut today—suppose you come with me?”
Eleanor looked at the soft waves falling around her shoulders and tugged at a strand of hair that seemed more like wire. “Dreadful is definitely the word all right. Can we get an appointment for me at such short notice?”
“They take walk-ins anytime,” Darcy assured her. “And some new makeup. And for God’s sake, honey, a bra that has a little support.”
Eleanor sighed, nodding. “I never buy under things until the old ones lose their elastic and have holes.”
“You need taking in hand.” Darcy shook her head. “Pretty lacy under things give you confidence. You could use a little of that!”
“I guess I could, at that. Okay. Let’s renovate me.”
The two of them walked to the hairdressing parlor, and the operator gave Eleanor a cut that suited her face: softly waved and very short. She looked different already, and when they went into a department store where Eleanor was shown how to apply new makeup, the transformation was complete.
“Mmmmm,” Eleanor said with a smile, looking at her face in the fluorescent mirror. “Is that me?”
“It sure is, honey.” Darcy laughed. “I’ve been wanting to do that for months. You used to be so particular about your appearance, but lately you’ve just let yourself go.”
“I guess I have,” she agreed. She touched her hair. “What a difference. Wade is going to love this.”
Darcy pursed her lips. “That party’s really got you perking, hasn’t it?”
“Yes, it has,” she admitted as they went through the women’s department browsing through the latest styles. “Not that I’m trying to break into high society. That would be ridiculous. I just want to do something different, you know? My life is deadly dull. I feel like I’m growing old second by second.”
“That’s a laugh. You’re the youngest person I know at heart. Just like your dad. How is he, by the way?”
“Getting back in shape slowly but surely, and trying to get me married off.”
“Same old Dad.” Darcy laughed.
“Amen.”
“Wouldn’t he settle for letting you have a wild, passionate affair?”
Eleanor sighed. “He couldn’t get grandkids that way,” she reminded her friend. “Anyway, I’m not sure I want to have an affair with anyone. Wade’s wonderfully nice, and I like him a lot. But he doesn’t start any fires just yet. I think that has to accompany emotional involvement, for me, at least.”
“Well, personally speaking, if I were looking for a blazing affair, I know which direction I’d be staring. My gosh, I’ll bet Keegan Taber is just plain dynamite in bed!”
“Oh, goodness!” Eleanor cried as her hand tore down half a dozen gowns from the rack. She colored furiously as she bent to pick them up.
“Sorry,” Darcy murmured as her friend fumbled gowns back onto hangers. “I guess I shouldn’t have said that, considering… But he is gorgeous, honey.” She eyed her friend thoughtfully. “I bet he’ll be at that party. His family and the Blakes are real friendly, aren’t they?”
“Isn’t this pretty?” Eleanor enthused over a pale green silk gown.
Darcy got the hint and said nothing more about Keegan. But the look in her eyes was more eloquent than words.
For the rest of the day, after she and Darcy parted company, Eleanor worried about the party. Keegan wouldn’t be there…would he? She didn’t want him to spoil her fun, to intrude into her life anymore. She found things to do, to keep busy. She couldn’t bear thinking about it. Anyway, Wade would be with her. He’d protect her.
She got dressed early and went into her father’s study, where he’d been holed up all day, to show him her borrowed outfit and her new look.
He stared and nodded solemnly. “You look just like your mother, darling,” he said, sm
iling wistfully. “So beautiful.”
“Not me. Wrong girl.” She laughed. “But if you think I’ll do, that’s fine.”
“You’ll do all right. You may need a stick to beat off the boys.” He lit his pipe. “Watch yourself.”
“Everybody tells me that.” She sighed.
“Then I’d listen if I were you.” He studied her with shrewd eyes. “Remember that it’s a long way from the presidential suite to the economy-class rooms, will you?”
“We’re not servants,” she said haughtily.
“Yes, I know that. But we’re not high society, either. See that you remember it.”
“Yes, Your Worship,” she said, and curtsied.
“Away with you! And don’t drink. You know what it does to you.”
She did, indeed, remembering that one date with Keegan. Her face colored, and she bent, pretending to fix her shoe strap.
“I’ll remember.”
“And have a good time,” her father added.
“Oh, I expect to.”
“And say hello to Keegan for me,” he added with a twinkle in his eyes. “Didn’t you know he was invited, too?”
She glared at the knowing look in his eyes, then turned as she heard a car pull into the driveway. “Well, I’m off. I’ll see you when I get back. Don’t be up too late, now.”
He made a face at her and she closed the door on it.
The Blakes lived in a house just a little less palatial than Flintlock. It was redbrick, very old, and stood on the banks of a private lake overlooking one of the most beautiful plains near Lexington. There was rolling farmland around it, and Thoroughbreds pranced jauntily in the confines of white fences.
“Nice little place, isn’t it?” Wade asked as they stopped in the driveway where a liveried chauffeur waited to drive them from the parking spaces up to the house.
“Little,” she scoffed, getting into the back of the Rolls-Royce limousine. She tried to memorize every inch of the leather luxury so that she could tell her father and Darcy. It was a little like being Cinderella.
