“Yes. I enjoy flying. Don’t have the time to do it as much as I’d like.”
“How did you learn?”
He smiled. “The government taught me.”
“You were in the Air Force?” For some reason that bit of information surprised her.
“Yes. I flew a chopper in Viet Nam.”
She gazed at him curiously. He had more unexpected facets than a gemstone. How many other sides were there to Kirk Remington that she didn’t know about?
He checked out the plane with experienced skill, switched on the radio and spoke to the control tower. He instructed Lilly to fasten her seat belt. Within minutes they were rolling down the runway. Then she felt the exhilaration of the plane growing lighter, the wheels lifting from the ground, the sudden, sweeping turn up as they were airborne.
They circled the area. An exclamation of pleasure escaped her lips as she gazed at the world of clouds around them, and the scenery far below.
He smiled at her excitement. “You like flying?”
“Oh, yes!” For the time being, she forgot about the cloud under which she was marrying Kirk. She was inspired by the thrill of the moment.
Kirk laughed. “I find your youthful enthusiasm delightful, Lilly. But I agree; there’s no other experience quite like being up here with the world and all its cares far below. You feel closer to the angels.” Then he said, “If you think you’d be interested, I could arrange for you to have flying lessons. Perhaps after a while you’d like to have a little plane of your own.”
Her gaze moved from the clouds around them to his face. She tried to divine his motives. Apparently, he was ready to give her anything she desired. Was it generosity or his curious need to show off before her, to impress her?
Or, was it more than that? Was it possible that in some way she didn’t fully understand and perhaps Kirk didn’t understand himself, he did love her? Could she believe that, knowing his heart belonged also to another woman? Men were a total mystery to her when it came to their view on love. And Kirk was the greatest mystery of them all. But she was going to let herself believe that Kirk loved her in his own way. Perhaps it was a fairy story she was making up, but she was going to pretend for now, at least, that it was true.
Holding to that thought, she settled into a strange but happy mood. With a feeling of anticipation, she included Jimmy in her thoughts. He would be flying to San Francisco with the other fellows. Next week he would open at Kirk’s new club. Perhaps she would get to see him then.
When the plane took off, Lilly had gazed down at the city of New Orleans, seeing the freeways, the Super-dome, the waterfront and finally the cluster of ancient buildings and narrow streets of the old French Quarter. A lump filled her throat. Only a few weeks ago she had come here, filled with young, romantic dreams. Then Kirk had stepped into her life and scattered the dreams, substituting his own kind of romantic reality.
She thought about Jimmy and asked herself if she had any regrets. Some, she admitted. Jimmy had a very special place in her heart. But she couldn’t go on living on dreams. Jimmy wasn’t going to marry her. She had been forced to make a choice. Was she going to regret the choice? Only the future could decide that. Jimmy had warned that she was asking for heartbreak, marrying Kirk. Was his warning a prophecy?
She was glad for Jimmy’s sake that things had turned out this way. He was going to have a brilliant future. She was sure of it. Knowing she had played a part in helping him gave her a warm feeling. She knew she would always love Jimmy in a special way in a secret corner of her heart.
Yes, Jimmy was going to be all right. He would be up there again, blowing his golden horn, in front of his band, happy and smiling. She knew she’d been right when she had said his horn was his mistress.
But what did the future hold for Lilly Parker?
She sat beside the window, watching the panorama of western scenery passing below—the various mountain ranges, the Grand Canyon, the vast stretches of desert, and finally Las Vegas.
The Las Vegas wedding progressed as smoothly as a ticking clock. Kirk’s staff had arranged everything. When they landed, a limousine was waiting for them. They were driven to the Cluster of Roses Wedding Chapel. A brief ceremony was performed. Kirk placed a wedding band on Lilly’s finger next to a large diamond ring he had also given her.
It was over; she was Mrs. Kirk Remington. It was all so unreal. Could she be dreaming?
By then, night had blanketed the desert. The Strip had sprung to life with blazing lights. The limousine took them to a luxury hotel where more elaborate arrangements had been made.
Lilly was surprised when Kirk insisted on carrying her across the threshold. She didn’t think the reserved man was capable of such old-fashioned sentimentality.
When they entered the room, Lilly gasped in amazement. The spacious suite had been transformed into a garden of flowers. Huge blankets of giant red roses banked the walls and covered the tables. Through a doorway, she glimpsed a great, round bed. It, too, was covered with roses. Then her wide-eyed gaze encountered another unexpected sight—a white baby grand piano almost hidden under a basket of flowers.
The rooms of the suite were decorated in white and gold. All the furnishings were in those colors. The deep, soft carpet was white, the walls were white with gold trim. The red roses exploded with brilliant hues.
Lilly became aware of Kirk’s gaze regarding her eagerly. “Do you like it?” he asked.
Again she remembered that night in his New Orleans apartment when he had shown her his sound system. She detected the same eagerness and uncertainty, the need to impress her. It was a curious side to this man she had married.
“It’s breathtaking,” she admitted.
“This is the bridal suite,” he explained.
Lilly Parker in the bridal suite of the most luxurious hotel in Las Vegas! She felt a hysterical impulse to giggle. A week ago she was struggling to pay the weekly rent on a third-rate hotel room with stained wallpaper!
“But why the piano?” she asked.
“I thought you might enjoy playing a little. I haven’t heard you play for a while.”
She looked at him curiously. Why would he want to hear her play? She moved to the piano and touched the keys. The tone was magnificent.
“I told my staff to rent the piano and have it tuned when it was delivered. Is it in tune?”
She nodded. “Yes. Perfect.”
“Well,” he said then, “I have ordered a dinner for us to be served here in our room. In the meantime, if you’d like to freshen up and change, there should be something waiting for you in the bathroom.”
“More arrangements by your staff?”
The slight edge of irony in her voice seemed to escape him. He merely answered, “Yes,” and went over to the white princess telephone to check with room service on the dinner.
Lilly walked to the bathroom. Again, the sight that greeted her took her breath away. The splendor of the room would have done justice to a Roman Emperor’s bath. It was decorated in the white and gold motif of the other rooms. The walls were paneled with mirrors. The white carpet was ankle deep. Dominating the room was a heart-shaped whirlpool bath. Dozens of white and gold orchids floated in the swirling water.
Hanging near the door was an exquisite white negligee and gown, her wedding night garments ordered by Kirk Remington’s staff. Lilly disrobed. She touched the swirling water of the bath experimentally with her toe. The temperature was perfect, just warm enough to be relaxing.
She sank into the moving, foaming water, losing herself among the orchids. A thousand gentle fingers massaged her sensuously. She closed her eyes, losing herself in the luxurious sensation. It was delightful. She was floating on a magic carpet of feeling that transported her to another realm of existence.
Suddenly, through the steam and vapor that rose from the bath, she saw the outline of a man standing over her. Her eyes flew open. She gasped as she saw Kirk’s naked body. The sinewy muscles in his shoulders and chest bulg
ed in smooth symmetry under the golden tan flesh. Her eyes moved down his body. His thighs and calves rippled like those of a stalking jungle cat as he moved to the heart-shaped pool and stepped into the water.
“It will be a little while before dinner arrives,” he murmured. “I thought I would join you.”
His intense gaze searched out the contours of her figure under the water. The way he drank in the sight of her nakedness embarrassed and disturbed her. Instinctively, she drew away from him.
But he moved closer, pushing aside the floating blanket of orchids. Under the water, she felt their bare legs touch. A shiver ran through her body. Quickfire flashed through her nerve ends.
He was close now. She felt helpless in the grip of his dark eyes holding hers with hypnotic force. For long, throbbing moments, they were motionless, reclining in the water, lost in the gaze that joined their eyes with deep, searching intensity.
She felt herself being drawn closer to him as he began to caress her under the water. The gentle massage of the swirling water was intensified by his hands roving over her arms and back, sending tingling, electrical shocks through her entire being. His palms moved down her spine to the curves below, gently holding the yielding flesh.
Slowly, tantalizingly, he pulled her closer. She felt her soft curves touching and moving against his hard, masculine skin. Their wet bodies, gleaming under the water, sent a thousand sensations exploding through her.
It was impossible to think, to remember how hopelessly she had tried to struggle against loving a man who did not love her in return.
Vapor from the warm water billowed around her. Through its soft haze, she saw the reflection in the mirrored walls of the man and woman in the heart-shaped pool like a dream sequence. The bodies were joined in a love embrace, legs entwined, arms locked about one another. Their movements followed the rhythm of the swirling waters. The orchids floated around them. Their murmured cries of ecstasy mingled with the bubbling of the water. Conscious thought was swept away and she only felt and saw and heard and rose to a molten height of gasping fulfillment that gradually fell away to a temporary sense of drowsy peace in his arms.
I love you, Kirk, she whispered in her heart. How she longed to speak the words aloud! But pride stilled them on her lips. What thoughts were going through Kirk’s mind, she wondered? Was he filled with a sense of tenderness toward her? But sadness engulfed her as she realized that he must be thinking of Marie Algretto at this very moment, regretting that she was not the woman in his arms.
Remington kissed her. “Forgive me for deserting you, Lilly. I’d like to prolong this moment, but I think it’s about time for the catering service to deliver our dinner.”
He stepped out of the pool with a shower of wet drops. He toweled himself dry vigorously, then slipped into a robe and left.
Lilly suddenly felt very alone. Her tears mingled with the water, dropping on an orchid that floated near her cheek. If she could be sure Kirk truly loved her, she would have been happier in a third-rate hotel room with stained wallpaper!
Finally there were no tears left. She dried and dressed in the gown and negligee. She caught a sight of her flushed face and her damp, towel-dried hair. A sudden, mischievous mood came over her. Perhaps it was a reaction to the depression she had been feeling. Looking at herself in the mirror, she giggled, “Lilly Parker, you look like a woman who has just been thoroughly slept with!” Kirk Remington might be an egotistical, ruthless man, but he was definitely a master at lovemaking. She almost wished that they were not so good together. It would be easier to deny her love for him.
Suddenly, she remembered, “It’s not Lilly Parker anymore, is it?” She held up her left hand with the massive diamond and the gold wedding band. “You’re a married woman now. You are Mrs. Kirk Remington.”
Again a sense of unreality gripped her. Lilly sighed, fastened the negligee around her slim waist, and rejoined Kirk in the main room of the suite. While she had been dressing, the catering service had delivered their dinner. It was waiting for her, a lavish spread of gourmet meats and sauces, steaming vegetables and crisp salads. Kirk was opening a bottle of wine.
The food was as delicious as it looked. Succulent Maine lobster melted in her mouth. Tender asparagus in hollandaise sauce brought an ecstatic response from her taste buds. The excellent wine spread its warmth through her.
Kirk was watching her with an amused expression. “You have quite an appetite, Mrs. Remington.”
Lilly stopped eating. She averted her gaze, looking down at her plate. She felt painfully self-conscious.
“I would say,” Kirk observed with a teasing note in his voice, “that lovemaking agrees with you.”
She felt a hot flush spread from her throat up her cheeks to her hair line.
“Am I embarrassing you?”
“You certainly are!”
“Nothing to be embarrassed about,” he smiled, raising his glass of wine. “We’re married. It’s quite legal...and moral now.”
“Legal, perhaps,” she murmured. “I think there may be a good question about how moral it is.”
“But I didn’t hear many protests from you. Be honest, Lilly. Admit it. You liked making love with me. You reveled in it.”
Angrily, she looked at him. “Don’t rub it in! All right, yes, sex between us is good. I’m not a frigid woman. I suppose you’ve found that out to your satisfaction. Is that what you want to hear?”
He gazed at her with a questioning expression. “Then why sound so angry about it?”
“I think you know the answer to that. It’s the situation. All of this has been forced on me. You certainly didn’t marry me because you loved me! I don’t know why you did. Probably to satisfy your swollen ego. Sex doesn’t add up to love. You may be able to arouse a physical response in me. You’re quite good at that. I suppose you’ve had enough practice! But you’ll never own my heart.”
He flushed angrily. “Then I’ll settle for what I do own!”
They lapsed into a cold, remote silence. Lilly no longer enjoyed the food. She left the table, went to a window, pushed the drapes aside and gazed out at the scene below.
Kirk remained at the table, moodily drinking. After a while he rose, moved to where she was standing and said, “Suppose we declare a truce. We might as well make the best of the evening. Why don’t you try the piano?”
Lilly shrugged, not wanting to speak to him. She moved away from the window to the baby grand. She touched the keys and found the response irresistible. Here, at least was a friend, a lover she could trust. Taking a seat on the bench, she began to play, limbering her hands first with arpeggios, then allowing melodies to flow from her heart to the keyboard. She found herself playing Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata.
As she played, she caught a glimpse of Kirk. He had settled into a chair nearby, watching her intently. He seemed transfixed, his attention heightened and centered on her. Strong emotions played over his face as he listened.
She played for half an hour, during which time Kirk did not move from the chair. When she paused for a moment to rest, he suddenly rose and moved to her side. “That was superb,” he whispered huskily. His eyes were aflame with a passion she couldn’t define.
He caught her arms and lifted her from the piano bench until they were standing close together. He kissed her, a lingering kiss, different from his other kisses. She was at a loss to describe the feeling he put into the embrace. She sensed that her playing aroused some kind of emotion in him that she did not yet understand.
He touched the ribbons on her robe and gown, whispering against her lips, “Please don’t stop, Lilly. Play for me again.”
With a feeling of being half dazed, she again took her seat at the piano. He stood nearby, hungrily drinking in the sight of her as she played. She felt his gaze like a hot mantel over her trembling flesh. It was a moment of unreality. Incredible as it seemed, it was as if her music had become an intimate link between them, a joining of something deeper in both of them than a mere
physical union.
She sensed that his passion was fueled by the music that sprang from her fingertips. She heard his breath, deep and strained as he drank in the sight of her swaying and moving on the piano bench to the rhythm of the melody she was playing. She was gripped in the spell of the moment, compelled to play harder. Was this the secret key that would unlock his heart? Had she temporarily wiped the image of Marie Algretto from his mind? Was he in love with Lilly Parker in this moment?
Her left hand moved in a sensuous eight-to-the-bar rhythmic bass while her right hand sought out rich melodic chords, all of it building in tempo and intensity into a heated jazz improvisation.
Suddenly, as if his storm of emotions had become too violent to control, Kirk swept her up from the piano bench in his strong arms. He carried her into the bedroom, covering the distance in long, powerful strides. He placed her on the round bed, flung his robe aside and joined her. He seized her with a primitive kind of passion more demanding than anything she had experienced in him before. At first she recoiled from his rough approach, but then the yearning nature of his desire communicated itself to her and a primitive force of her own responded. She was overcome by the moment, controlled by passion, swept into a furious storm of emotion, sensation, elation.
Long afterward, when the passion they’d shared had been drained, she lay still and spent in the quiet, darkened room, gazing at the ceiling. Now in the coldness of returned sanity, she pondered the incredible sequel of events that had aroused Kirk. She was beginning to understand that Kirk had married her for her musical ability as much as for herself. But more than that, perhaps the two were somehow linked. He had expressed more than once his fascination and envy of persons with her talent. Was his own frustration so great that he was driven to possess her and thereby seek to become part of her music? The concept was so confusing and so new, that as yet she couldn’t get a grip on it. But she was certain that her playing was somehow mixed up with his physical desire for her. There were sexually related overtones involved with her musical ability. If she could understand that, perhaps she could understand the baffling mystery of the man she had married.
Tender Deception: A Novel of Romance Page 13
