Garden Of Fantasy

by Karen Rose Smith

  She flipped over the computer sheet and saw the clippings. Tears came to her eyes. Betrayal, intense and suffocating, overwhelmed her. Why? Why had he done this? The date on the printout showed he'd known for weeks. Why hadn't he told her?

  Because he had a motive. Damn! She'd thought the serious discussion they were about to have had to do with their future. Hah! It probably had more to do with blackmail.

  Her hopes died, and one tear after another ran down her cheeks. He was using her--stealing her ideas, pretending he cared about her, keeping her close to keep an eye on her. Sure, he didn't want her to get to know Osgood. She'd have an "in" and he wouldn't. The jealousy had been an act. And she'd fallen for it!

  She'd also fallen prey to his lovemaking skills, his false honesty, his pretended sincerity. She looked down at the photograph of her and John. Was she so susceptible? Was she so naive that men saw her as an easy target? What was wrong with her? Giving compassion and friendship and accepting it in return, giving love and wanting to believe it was reciprocated--was that such an untenable goal?

  The sliding glass doors opened and closed. Beth raised her head, anger as tempestuous as a hurricane keeping her silent.

  Nash approached, seeing the folder in her hand. "I can explain that."

  The weight of what she'd found pushed her down. She fought her way back up. "Sure you can. You can explain everything. You should have been an actor instead of an architect because you've given an Academy Award winning performance!"

  Her attack seemed to astound him. "Now, wait a minute."

  She squared her shoulders. "No. You wait a minute." She threw the folder on the desk and waved to the table with his boards. "I suppose it's a coincidence that after you looked at my ideas, yours came out similar?"

  He grimaced and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "You're jumping to conclusions, Beth."

  "Am I? Tom Rosenthal warned me about you."

  "Warned you?" Nash's eyes narrowed.

  The accusations surfaced as if Rosenthal was whispering in her ear. "He told me you do whatever you can to discredit your competitors. He said you get friendly to learn whatever you can. And if that doesn't work, you hire an investigator to do a background check."

  Nash swore under his breath. "That man has some imagination. I'd have to be as rich as Osgood to afford that."

  Her fury erupted when she glared at her folder on his desk. "Then what in God's name is that? It proves what he said is true."

  "It proves nothing of the sort. I don't know what Rosenthal's problem is, but he has a lousy attitude. It's no wonder he loses more projects than he wins."

  "His attitude has nothing to do with his work."

  "Sure it does. It colors it."

  "Then why did Osgood ask him to bid?"

  "Because his work is technically perfect even though it's uninspired." Nash scowled. "I don't know how you could believe a stranger--"

  She impatiently cut him off, her hurt thrust aside so she could strengthen her defenses. "You were a stranger too. And if he was so wrong, where did that come from?"

  Nash's line of vision switched from her to the desk. "I have a friend."

  "Who's a private investigator and you get a discount?"

  He weighed her words. "Why do you want to think the worst?" His jaw clamped in a set position, his mouth compacted into a taut line.

  She resented his seeming calmness when her world was falling apart. "Because I've been used before and I recognize the signs. I thought you were attracted to me, I thought we had some kind of...connection, I thought you respected me. But the whole time you were planning to blackmail me!"

  "Blackmail? Have you gone off the deep end?"Nash took a step closer and planted his feet firmly apart.

  "No. I'm waking up. I should know better than to believe in fairy tales and whirlwind romances." Beth couldn't keep the bitterness out of her answer. "You moved too fast, buster. That should have warned me. You set out to make a good impression. When the powerful, well-known architect's polish didn't work, you convinced me you were a family man. And all the time you were setting me up! I was so stupid. I thought tonight was going to be...special. I never imagined blackmail."

  Nash's anger seemed to coalesce in a cloud around him. He didn't attempt to hide the hard edge to his voice or the fire in his eyes. "You mentioned that word more than once. Since you've worked everything out, tell me what I was going to do."

  "Use that information. Threaten me. If I don't give up the Osgood project, you'll go public with my past, bring it all up again. Well, it won't work. I won't drop the project. If Osgood finds out and I lose it, so be it. I'll go after something else. And if the information goes public again, I don't give a damn. This time I won't run. Gossip is gossip. And just like three years ago, it'll eventually lose steam. Now there's nothing to feed it and it'll come and go overnight. You underestimated me, Nash. I don't scare that easily."

  He pushed his hand through his hair with agitation. "I underestimated you, all right. After what we've shared, how can you possibly believe I'd want to hurt you?"

  To protect herself, she summoned her courage and began building walls by wrapping her response in sarcasm. "What did we share? Sex? Passion?"

  His words flew out of his mouth like three separate cannon balls. "There was more."

  Beth wanted to duck, turn away, evade his gaze so he couldn't see the truth. Calling on every ounce of self- respect, she blanked her expression and lied. "No. I got carried away by chemistry. That's all it was." It was difficult to draw a breath. Speaking so lightly of something she felt so deeply twisted her heart.

  Nash took a few strides toward her. "Don't do this, Beth. Give me a chance--"

  "To lie to me more?" She steeled herself against all the tender feelings, against the inclination to listen to his excuses. "You knew my background. You never gave a hint that you did."

  "I was wrong," he said dully. "I should have told you I knew. But I wanted you to trust me--"

  "So you could deceive me."

  "Deceive? You want to talk about deceive?" he roared, his hand cutting though the air. "You're not even using your first name anymore!"

  She wouldn't let him turn this around on her. She lifted her chin stubbornly.

  He clenched his fists at his sides, and with a visible effort softened his voice. "Why didn't you tell me? Were you so ashamed of what you did, you thought I couldn't forgive you?"

  A chill tripped down her spine. "Forgive me? I don't need anyone's forgiveness. I didn't do anything wrong!" she exploded.

  "Those articles are pretty complete and convincing. Places you were seen, how often Winston 'visited' you. Not to mention the photograph. How are you going to explain that away?"

  "I don't have to explain anything."

  "If it's not true, why didn't you defend yourself? You didn't make one public statement."

  "Because I couldn't have changed anything. And by keeping quiet, I helped John free himself from an unhappy marriage and a career that was causing him enough stress for a heart attack at an early age."

  Nash slanted her a glance, his eyes unreadable. "Are you saying you didn't have an affair with the man?"

  How often had friends asked her that question with the same inflection of doubt? A poignant ache squeezed her heart. "It doesn't matter if I did or not. Not anymore. I was going to tell you about it tonight--all of it, and hope you would believe the truth. It was so important you believe me."

  She shook her head. "I've been such a fool. You've been playing with me. You said it didn't matter if I won the contract. You were so blase. And I lapped it up because I wanted to believe it."

  "I have not played with you. I have not lied to you."

  She glared at him.

  He rubbed his hand across his temple. "All right. Maybe not telling you I knew was lying. But you sure as hell lied by omission, too. Where did you really go this weekend?"

  "It doesn't matter. I thought I was putting the past behind me. Again, I was naive. I d
idn't think that someone unscrupulous like you would continue to use it against me."

  Nash's face flushed. "You truly believe that I set up our relationship and I had sex with you to gain your confidence, that I stole your ideas and intended to blackmail you?"

  "Yes."

  "And nothing I can say will change your mind."

  "No."

  He closed the distance between them. His nose was only inches from hers. She could feel his heat and suppressed anger, smell his maleness, taste his last kiss. His arm muscles tensed and she knew he was restraining himself from touching her.

  For the first time since she met him, she felt intimidated as he said, "You'll take the word of someone like Rosenthal instead of someone you've spent time with, talked to, and almost lived with for the past two weeks? I don't know what else you've done in your life, but that's gullible."

  Emotion surged through her so strong she could hardly stand to look at him. It hurt too much to remember kissing his lips, touching his body, lying in his arms. She moved away from him toward the steps.

  "Beth." When she turned, he said, "I was going to tell you I knew tonight. That's what I wanted to talk to you about. And I was going to ask you--"

  "You expect me to believe you?"

  "Yes, I do. I expect you to be reasonable and see how silly your accusations are."

  "Silly? I've told you before, don't patronize me. My accusations are about as silly as John using our friendship to get out of his marriage without regard for my reputation. As silly as me losing my job or not being able to walk down the street without people pointing, making snide comments, and judging when they have no idea what the facts are." Tears crowded her throat, then escaped and skittered down her cheeks in uneven tracks. "They're as silly as seeing my designs reflected in yours."

  Nash's eyes looked pained. His expression was grim. His voice was deceptively low with an undertone of frustration. "Think about something, Beth. Think about the night on the beach in Stone Harbor. Then you tell me what's between us isn't real."

  She took three heaving breaths to snuff a sob and regain control. "The night before the story broke, I had dinner with John. He knew that picture was coming out in the morning edition because a reporter had called him for an interview. John didn't tell me he confirmed the story, he didn't prepare me, he acted like a friend."

  She clasped her hands together tightly before continuing. "So... I believe you had a daughter. I believe she died and maybe you're still hurting. But I also believe if you wanted Osgood's contract badly enough, you could pretend what you didn't necessarily feel. It was a tactic to get me to trust you."

  Nash pulled back and became remote. "You have it all figured out. But you've missed one important fact. I am not John Winston and whatever he did to you has nothing to do with me except in your mind."

  The silence between them thundered as their eyes locked. Beth felt herself shaking and she knew she couldn't stay in the same room with him for another minute. She looked away and grabbed the banister.

  "You're making a mistake, Beth."

  "My mistake was getting involved with you." She didn't look back as she climbed the steps, picked up her purse in the living room, and walked out of Nash's life.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  When Beth shoved the bulky box to the high shelf in the closet of her spare room, it almost tumbled back down. The exertion of hoisting it into place again made her groan. Nobody in their right mind housecleaned in this heat. But then who said she was in her right mind?

  She'd worked like a dervish all week, spending long hours at the office, then cleaning windows, swiping at cobwebs, and polishing cabinets when she came home. Most of the week she'd achieved her goal--not thinking about Nash. The trouble was her unconscious mind wasn't cooperating. Her dreams, stray thoughts, the resort designs, all effectively reminded her she was only fooling herself and she'd have to come to terms with her feelings eventually.

  Probably tomorrow at one in Osgood's office when she had to face Nash. At least other people would be there and she could give him the cold shoulder without a confrontation. Her stomach knotted. Nerves. Not the heart-sickening ache that her dreams had been shattered. Not the loneliness that only Nash's presence seemed to fill. Just nerves about the presentation.

  She kicked another box closer to the closet. Nash had become a habit, an addictive habit. Learned behavior could be unlearned. She was a survivor. No man was going to crush her soul. So why were the blasted tears accumulating in her eyes again? It must be the dust.

  Bending her knees, she'd just hefted the carton into her arms when the phone rang. Seven o'clock on a Sunday evening. It could be her parents. She'd postponed calling them all week. She didn't know how to tell them she'd made another mistake.

  Spinning on her heels, she plopped the box on the bed and hurried to the phone.

  "Beth, it's Nash. Don't hang up."

  She wasn't prepared for his voice or the trembling that began with her hands and spread to her knees. "I don't have anything to say to you."

  "I'm calling from Shannon's. I need your help."

  He needed her help? Anger returned fresh and strong. "If this is another ploy--"

  "Listen to me, Beth. Wayne's out of town. Davie's had a cold for a week and an hour ago his fever shot up and he's having trouble breathing. Shannon took him to the emergency room. I've got to go up there with her; she's a wreck. But I can't find anyone to stay with Jason and Roger. Could you stay with them? Possibly overnight?"

  When she gave a surprised gasp, he added, "I'm sorry to disturb you, but I had no choice."

  Beth quickly absorbed the information he'd given her. Shannon's family had been so nice to her, this was the least she could do. She wasn't helping Nash. She was helping Shannon. "I'll be right there. Try to reassure the boys. Tell them we'll...make cookies or something."

  "Thanks, Beth."

  She ignored his gratitude and hung up. Automatically, she stuffed a change of clothes, clean underwear, and her toothbrush into her duffel bag. Flicking on her answering machine, she rushed out the door.

  At Shannon's, Jason and Roger were solemnly watching television. They looked up, but didn't say a word. She found Nash pacing the kitchen. He stopped when he saw her.

  Beth's eyes skipped from his moccasins, up powerful legs to his navy shorts, over his red T-shirt clinging to his muscles, and stopped at his piercing green eyes. Her heart stopped, then started again at an incredible rate. Damn! This man still had power over her. She thought she'd grabbed it back.

  Taking the offensive was her best strategy. "The boys are upset."

  Nash nodded. "I don't know what to tell them. I don't know what's wrong. If anything happens to that little guy--His voice caught.

  She wanted to comfort him, touch him. But she couldn't. She wouldn't. She was here to help Shannon. "I'll do my best to keep them occupied."

  His gaze seemed to steam through her, trying to thaw her reserve. "Shannon thinks this is her fault. She took him to the doctor's at the beginning of the week, but she's beating herself up because she didn't call him again."

  "When's Wayne coming home?"

  "Oh, I almost forgot." With an abrupt movement, Nash tugged a piece of paper from under a banana magnet on the refrigerator. "He's due in tomorrow. I've been trying to call him, but he's out. I'd appreciate it if you could keep trying." He held the paper out to her. "This is the number."

  "Sure." She took it carefully, not letting her fingers graze his. "Maybe he can get an earlier flight."

  They stared at each other uncomfortably. Finally Nash broke the contact and plucked his keys from the counter. "I have to go."

  "Call when you know something."

  "I will."

  He went to the living room and hugged his nephews. Watching, Beth fought the desire to go to him and wrap her arms around him until it was too late to do anything about it. He was gone.

  But the picture of him holding Roger and Jason stayed in her mind as she encouraged
the boys to help her bake a batch of chocolate chip cookies. When the phone rang, Roger was taking the last cookie sheet out of the oven. The boys' eyes grew big as they looked at Beth.

  "I'll get it. Be careful you don't burn yourselves taking the cookies from the tray." She went to the living room, took a deep breath, and picked up the phone.

  "He has pneumonia," Nash blurted out.

  "Is he going to be all right?"

  "We don't know. They've started antibiotics. The next six to twelve hours are critical. Beth, they have him hooked up to an IV, and they're giving him oxygen. He looks so small and helpless in the bed."

  Her heart went out to him. "I'll be praying for him, Nash."

  The silence between them brought them close to the communion they'd once shared. Nash broke it, his voice husky. "Did you reach Wayne yet?"

  "No. He's still not in his room. I'll keep trying."

  "Will you be able to get the boys off to school all right in the morning? They can tell you their routine."

  "We'll be fine."

  "I called the mother of one of their friends. Tell them Billy's mom will pick them up after school."

  "I can do it if you'd like."

  "We don't want to impose more than necessary," he said with cool composure. "And with not knowing when Wayne's coming home, this way we won't have to worry. You could get tied up with Osgood."

  "What about you? Your presentation?"

  "I can't leave Shannon. She's ready to collapse from the strain but she won't leave the hospital."

  Beth couldn't believe what she was hearing. "You're not going to the meeting? What about all the time you put into this, all the work?"

  "You probably won't believe this, but no contract, no amount of money is worth more than Shannon and the kids. Regardless of your conclusions, I'm not the calculating, ruthless person you think I am."

  Before she could respond, he said, "I have to go. I'll call if there's a change."

  She hung up and felt...odd. Like her world had listed and she couldn't find her balance. She needed to think, but right now she had two children to reassure and keep occupied until they could fall asleep.