Wonder and Wild Desire

by Jeanne Stephens

  In a black dinner jacket and ruffle-fronted white shirt, he looked devastatingly handsome as his eyes widened, then narrowed and ran over her. "Well." His tone held satisfaction. "You will certainly be the most beautiful woman there tonight."

  "Thank you," she said in a soft voice. "You like my new gown, then?"

  "Like is hardly adequate to express my opinion of your gown, my dear," he said rather dryly.

  Feeling at a loss how to react to that, Carrie said, "I'll get my coat."

  "Wait." Josh strode to the brightly decorated tree and lifted a large package from the pile underneath. "Open this before we go."

  "Won't we be late?"

  Ignoring her protest, he put the box into her hands. She sat down on the couch and tore off the wrappings. When she pushed back the layers of tissue to expose a mink evening jacket, a sudden feeling of unreality came over her. Gingerly she ran her fingers over the luxurious fur, quite unable to speak.

  Then Josh was bending over her, lifting the jacket from its box. "Let's see if I guessed your size correctly."

  She stood and allowed him to slide the jacket up her arms and pull it over her shoulders. Standing behind her, his hands cupping the warm collar against her neck, he said in a quiet voice, "The fit is fine. Do you like it?"

  "It's lovely." Carrie was amazed to feel a knot of tears gathering in her throat. No doubt it was the shock. What was Josh up to now? She swallowed hard and walked over to view her reflection in a wall mirror. The jacket was a rich brown very near the color of her hair, reaching just below her waist, with a short stand-up collar. She could hardly believe that she was the elegant-looking woman who stared back at her.

  "I never saw anything as—as glamorous as this jacket, Josh. Thank you."

  He came up behind her, and for a moment their gazes caught in the mirror. Carrie thought that he was going to touch her and, perversely, felt disappointment when he merely said, "Shall we go?"

  The country club was situated on the other side of town from the Revell estate. Josh at the wheel of the Mercedes handled the snowy roads with ease. Their conversation during the drive centered on Mike, the fact that he was beginning to walk everywhere, and the presents Carrie had bought him for Christmas.

  With Josh beside her, Carrie felt an uncharacteristic self-confidence as they entered the country club building. It was with some reluctance that she left her jacket in the cloakroom, as if she feared she might shed her confidence with the mink.

  They found the dining room already filled as they entered. One of the first couples to come into Carrie's line of vision was Jessica Thorpe and a distinguished-looking white-haired gentleman who was gazing down at her with an adoring smile.

  Seeing the direction of her look, Josh said, "That's Emmet Travis. He owns several hotels across the river in Washington. He was a friend of Jessie's late husband."

  Although he must be twenty years older than Jessica, Travis was still a handsome man, and clearly wealthy. He seemed to exude the aura of money.

  His hand on her arm, Josh was steering Carrie toward a table where the McCloys and Kevin Hamilton were already seated. Greetings were exchanged, and Christine turned to Carrie. "You look as pretty as a picture, honey." Her auburn curls bounced as she tilted her head to one side. "That dress is a knockout, and you've got the figure for it."

  "Thank you." Carrie's confidence took another lift, but it was short-lived, for Jessica and her escort were approaching the table. Jessica wore a stunning, figure-hugging silver gown stitched all over with metallic strands that glistened provocatively with every move she made. She accepted the chorus of greetings and admiring glances with tolerant amusement, but her brown eyes deepened with a sensual glow and a flicker of possessiveness as she glanced at Josh.

  "Josh, darling!" she purred as she swept around the table, followed by Emmet Travis, one elegant hand coming to rest on the black sleeve of Josh's dinner jacket. "There is something I must discuss with you."

  As Josh smiled slightly and moved to assist Jessica into the chair next to his, Carrie caught Christine's look. Christine's eyes seemed to say, "You haven't a chance against her," and Carrie experienced a strange desire to prove Christine wrong, a desire she instantly commanded herself to ignore.

  "We'll talk later, Jessie," Josh said, his expression unfathomable as he looked across at Carrie. Emmet Travis was now seated on Jessica's other side. "Emmet," Josh said, "may I introduce my wife, Carrie? Carrie, this is Emmet Travis."

  "How do you do, my dear." Sharply etched lips parted in a smile that revealed even white teeth, but there was a trace of sympathy in the light blue eyes as they swept over Carrie.

  Jessica, who seemed to have noticed Carrie for the first time, took in the burgundy gown with amusement. "Josh, darling, you must allow your wife to go to Seattle, or at least Boise, for her clothes. That dress has been in Rena's shop for at least six months."

  Carrie's chin jutted forward as Christine stifled a gasp. It was the most blatant insult Carrie had ever encountered in a social situation, and Josh apparently had no intention of coming to her rescue. Instead, he smiled lazily and raised an eyebrow for Carrie's benefit. Carrie felt her hackles rising.

  "Where did you find your gown, Jessica?" she inquired in a tone as deliberately sweet as honey.

  "Oh, there is an absolute prize of a designer in Seattle. She chooses her clients with care, but if I recommend you she will take you on."

  "Never mind," returned Carrie. "I don't like the flashy look."

  Travis glanced from one face to the other in this tense little scene and cleared his throat. "Jessie always makes the best-dressed lists in this part of the country."

  "How nice," Carrie acknowledged coolly, her blue-green eyes still meeting Jessica's now furious look. "She probably has all the time in the world to plan her wardrobe. Most women have other responsibilities."

  Jessica's dark eyes smoldered venomously, but Josh intervened with a sharp glance. "We seem to have a misunderstanding here."

  "No," Carrie cut in, meeting his level gaze. "Jessica and I understand each other very well, I think."

  She looked back at Jessica, head held high. She'd heard all of the woman's snide innuendoes that she cared to. Hereafter, she would strike back.

  Emmet placed his hand over Jessica's and held it for a moment. "May I order you a cocktail, sweetheart?"

  The tension in the air was relieved as Travis summoned a waiter, who took their orders for drinks. Then the mediating Travis caught Carrie's eyes and said, "I understand you have an adopted son."

  Carrie took a deep breath and forced a smile to her cold lips. "Yes, Mr. Travis. Mike will be a year old next month. Driving here, Josh and I were talking about how fast he is growing. He recently started walking."

  Their drinks arrived, followed shortly by the first course of their dinner. For Carrie it was a difficult meal to sit through. Christine McCloy and Kevin Hamilton, apparently in an effort to prevent any more antagonism from surfacing, kept up a lively conversation about recent civic events and the coming holidays. Jessica, sitting directly across from Carrie, made it all too obvious that she was bored by the conversation and repeatedly leaned over to speak quietly into Josh's ear. Josh, except for brief replies to Jessica, maintained a brooding silence. When Carrie met his glance after the first course, she received the impression that be was expecting her to attack Jessica again, perhaps more directly this time. Carrie had an impish impulse to knock the full water pitcher into Jessica's elegant lap but resisted with some difficulty.

  After the five-course meal, the orchestra began playing dance melodies and Travis immediately asked Jessica to dance. Jessica's glance at the older man was impatient, but she rose from her chair, glistening, and accepted his hand. The McCloys followed them to the dance floor, and Carrie glanced at Josh, who had been drinking steadily all through the meal, his expression enigmatic. She found it impossible to guess his thoughts and turned to answer a question put to her by Kevin Hamilton.

  Prob
ably suspecting that Kevin was about to ask her to dance, Josh said abruptly, "Would you like to dance, Carrie?"

  Carrie met his cold look once more with a sickening feeling in her stomach, but her expression remained veiled as she nodded silently and allowed her husband to lead her onto the dance floor. As Josh's arms came around her in a loose, impersonal embrace she asked herself why it should matter to her how Josh and Jessica behaved.

  Determined not to be the first to break the stony silence, Carrie pressed her lips together. The melody was half through when Josh finally said, "Your first important social event as my wife isn't turning out very well."

  She looked up at him then and saw a hardening of all his features. "I suppose you think it's my fault."

  "You certainly haven't helped the situation."

  "What should I have done, Josh? Sat there and allowed Jessica Thorpe to insult me?"

  His gold-flecked eyes glittered down at her. "You have to know Jessie. She only meant to accommodate you when she offered to recommend you to her designer."

  Carrie had begun to tremble with anger. "She meant to make me feel gauche and foolish in front of the others. I won't stand for it, Josh. I am not the least bit ashamed of my background or my wardrobe—or anything else. I have much more important things to do than to flit around town to committee meetings and traipse over to Seattle for specially designed clothes."

  "Indeed?" he murmured, staring at her through narrowed eyes for a moment before shrugging carelessly. "I don't want to argue with you. As I told you earlier, you look very beautiful tonight. You needn't be envious of Jessie."

  "Envious!" she exclaimed. "I feel not the slightest envy for a woman who throws herself at other women's husbands!" She turned her head to stare over his shoulder but still felt his eyes on her. She was relieved when the melody ended and they could return to the table. To her chagrin, however, Jessica and Emmet returned at the same time, and when Kevin Hamilton asked her to dance she accepted with alacrity.

  When she and Kevin were moving smoothly to the music, she felt herself relaxing for the first time since she'd walked into the dining room and caught sight of Jessica. They talked easily, and she felt her composure reasserting itself. But it crumpled just as quickly when she saw Josh leading Jessica onto the dance floor. At the end of the dance, Kevin returned her to the table, but Josh and Jessica did not come back. After a few minutes, she accepted Emmet Travis's invitation to dance.

  Held lightly in the older man's arms, she glanced surreptitiously about the dance floor. Josh and Jessica were no longer to be seen. Nor were they at the table when she and Emmet returned. In fact, it was several dances later when they appeared, and Jessica gave Carrie a smug look before going off to dance with Kevin.

  As her introduction to the social life of the community, the evening was a disaster for Carrie. She danced again with Josh and twice more with Kevin, but it was an effort to keep up her end of the conversation, particularly with Josh, who seemed determined to drink himself under the table between dances.

  By the time the evening was over, Carrie had been made to feel like an outsider who would never be accepted into the world where Josh moved so easily. During the drive home, Josh finally decided to talk.

  "I hope you enjoyed your evening with Kevin Hamilton."

  She glanced over at him in time to see his lips curl cynically. She remembered all too vividly her dances with Josh when he had held her rigidly, like a distant stranger, and she had experienced a perverse desire to have him press her closer. The unfairness of his attack now only served to hurt her further, but she was determined not to let him know it.

  "What enjoyment there was in the evening," she said stiffly, "was in knowing that not everyone found me inappropriately dressed and boring company."

  His heavy-lidded eyes appraised her with a coolness that sent an involuntary shiver up her spine. "I couldn't care less what you choose to wear, and although I have found your company many things, it is rarely boring. However, I must object to your flirtation with Kevin. I have asked you not to see him alone. You deliberately disobeyed me, not only by dancing with him tonight but by having dinner in a restaurant with him while I was in Boise."

  Carrie's anger increased. He had known about her dinner with Kevin all along and had been waiting for the right moment to bring it up. "You sound like a general barking orders to a private. This is not the army, Josh! If you insist on issuing commands, I will continue to disobey as I please. Why do you want to continue this pretended marriage? Do you really want to be married to a woman who cares nothing for you?"

  There was a golden gleam in the eyes that swept over her. "I am not yet convinced that we can't make a success of this. We have only been married six weeks. I once vowed that if I ever married again, it would be for good."

  "That," she said uncomfortably, "was when you planned to marry Jessica. You couldn't have known that another woman would be forced upon you. But when you made a bad bargain, Josh, it's doubly foolish to keep on with it. Wouldn't it be wiser to give me a divorce and allow me to take Mike away with me? You could continue to provide for him if you wish."

  His tight smile was a mockery. "I'm not ready to admit defeat yet. We will not discuss divorce. I am a determined man, Carrie."

  Carrie noticed abstractedly that they had reached the estate as Josh turned the car between the stone pillars. In spite of the prodigious amount of alcohol he had consumed, he seemed in perfect command of the car. "Yes, you are determined," Carrie said angrily as they walked into the house through the back hall. "You are determined to have your cake and eat it, too!"

  He glanced carelessly over his shoulder as he strode through the house with Carrie at his heels. "What is that supposed to mean?"

  They had reached the foyer now, and Carrie turned to face him. "You want to keep me as some kind of salve to your pride, and you want to continue your relationship with Jessica."

  His eyebrows rose sardonically. "What an imagination you have!"

  "I did not imagine that you disappeared with that woman for half an hour this evening!" Carrie's voice rose shrilly.

  Josh's hand shot out to grip her arm. "Keep your voice down. You'll wake Mother."

  "Don't worry." Carrie controlled her voice with great difficulty. "Your mother is the only one in this family who has any human compassion and understanding. I wouldn't want her to learn what a devious devil her son is!" She jerked away from him and turned to run up the stairs. In her anger, she ran too quickly, caught the hem of her gown under her foot, and, tripping, fell to her knees on one of the carpeted stairs.

  "Carrie?" As she struggled to get to her feet, she heard Josh running up the stairs behind her. Supporting her with both hands, he helped her to stand. "Are you all right?" She looked up at him, amazed at the seeming concern in his tone. How could he switch his emotions off and on so quickly? Perhaps he was drunk, after all.

  She tried to pull away from him. "I'm not hurt." But she swayed against him and with an oath he swept her into his arms and carried her on up the stairs. In her bedroom, he deposited her unceremoniously on the bed, where she sat, still wearing the mink jacket, and looked up at him.

  She was not prepared for the fierce anger in his eyes. "You little fool! How long are you going to keep up this running battle? You could have hurt yourself seriously just now!"

  "Leave me alone, Josh. I can't stand this anymore. Go—go see Jessica. She's probably waiting for you, anyway."

  "Are you quite finished?"

  "No!" She tore off the jacket and threw it at him. "Take this with you. I don't want any presents from you!"

  Slowly he bent to pick up the jacket from the floor at his feet. As he tossed it across the dressing table his smoldering eyes never left Carrie, who now sat hunched over. His chest heaved as he drew a deep breath to control himself. "You are the most maddeningly stubborn woman I've ever known. I told you this before, and I am more convinced of it than ever. You enjoy playing the martyr. I have given you my home and my
name, and all you can do is sit there and feel sorry for yourself."

  The accusation was too close to the truth not to sting a little, but Carrie managed to remain outwardly indifferent. "If you don't mind, I would like to go to bed."

  She ran a weary hand across her forehead, but the hand stilled as he continued. "That gown looks lovely on you. You have excellent taste, and you are right— the sort of extreme fashions that Jessie wears would only take away from your natural beauty."

  Bewildered by his swift change from criticism to compliment, Carrie could only stare at him speechlessly.

  "It never entered my mind to leave you and go to her," he went on, seemingly unaware of how confused she felt by his abrupt change in mood. "At the moment I have no desire to be anywhere but here."

  Suddenly his hands gripped her, pulling her to her feet. "Carrie—"

  "Don't." She brushed off his hands, but not before she was aware, deep inside her, of the pleasurable warmth that had overcome her once before. Since that night more than four weeks ago, he had touched her only in an impersonal manner, and now she experienced the hot tingle of awareness running along all her nerves, leaving a trail of sensual desire that she struggled to fight.

  The silence between them as they stood so close together was heavy with unspoken emotions.

  "Are you going to fight me forever, Carrie?" he asked finally. "Is this how you want to live?"

  "I—I wish I'd never met you."

  The golden centers of his eyes flashed with anger. "But you did meet me, and we are married. We—are-married."

  A quiver of apprehension raced through Carrie as she stared at him blankly for a moment. "I don't know what you want from me."

  "Don't you?" His eyes were laden with mockery. "Then I will be more explicit. I want to share your bed, as is my right."

  "Your right!" she gasped as she shrank away from him. "Don't talk to me about rights. I—I want you to go."