by Summers, Amy
She licked her dry lips. "You think I should give him up for the good of the movie industry, is that it?"
Terry moved impatiently. "Come on, Thawn. You're a grown woman. You know the score. He'll never settle for one woman for very long. There's no gold band in your future here. Let him go now, before you ruin him."
"Ruin him!" Her laugh was hollow. "I'd never realized he was quite so fragile."
Terry shook his head. "He needs his mind clear to work. I thought you might understand that." He continued to scrutinize her, but she refused to respond. "Well, never mind, Thawn. I don't think this little affair has much life left in it anyway. On Wednesday we're packing up to scout locations in Wyoming. Rafe won't be making many charter flights back from there. It would be nice, though, if you could see your way to making the breakup quick and sweet, so he can get his mind back on work." He gave her another stilted smile. "Think it over."
Thawn watched as he drove away, then continued on to the trailer. But after parking she sat in the car for almost half an hour before Carly came out the door and discovered her.
"Rafe was beginning to wonder where you were," Carly said, calling her in. "There's Tom now. We're going to run into Cambria and pick up some deli meat and freshly baked bread for the sandwiches."
Thawn smiled in response to her youthful exuberance, feeling suddenly very mature herself. Mature people made considered decisions; they didn't let their emotions rule their lives.
Rafe met her just inside the door. "Where've you been?" he asked, pulling her to him and burying his face in her hair. "I've missed you."
"It's been so long," she agreed lightly. "All of eight or nine hours since you last saw me."
"A lifetime," he growled, kissing her neck.
She pulled out of his arms and walked nervously into the living room. "1 saw Carly. She and Tom were leaving to get food for the picnic."
She turned to look back and caught a puzzled look in Rafe's eyes. But he erased it with a smile and started toward her again. Before he reached her, she turned away and spoke quickly. "So you had a visitor this morning."
"Hmmmm?" He took her lightly by the shoulders from behind and kissed the top of her head. "Oh, yeah, Terry stopped by. He went to see his daughter at Pismo Beach and dropped in here to say hello."
Thawn tensed, waiting for Rafe to tell her more, but instead he had a suggestion. "Come with me and see how much they've done on the house this week," he said, catching at her hand.
She followed him reluctantly, dreading the approach of the move she knew she had to make.
The house already looked magnificent, though it was far from complete. The area around it had a raw look, but Thawn knew the landscaper would take care of that. She entered with Rafe, and they explored the lower floor together, he exclaiming and calling her attention to each improvement, she following and agreeing quietly.
"Look at the view from the master bedroom," he called from upstairs. "Come see how still the water is."
Thawn climbed the stairs as though her legs were made of lead.
"Isn't this spectacular?" He swept her up in a whirling embrace and waltzed her around the room. "Just wait until you wake up with a roaring fire going in the fireplace on a cold winter morning. We'll snuggle down under the covers and watch the rain fall." He dropped a quick kiss on her lips. "How are you going to like waking up to this view every morning?"
She pulled away and turned to look at the sea, afraid to speak, afraid to reveal herself with the tremor she knew would be in her voice.
"It's the same ocean I see from my bedroom at my home," she said finally when she could trust herself. She lifted her chin. "And I can see just fine from there,"
He came up behind her and drew her back to mold her body to his long length. "We'll leave all the windows open when we make love," he said huskily. "We'll let the sun stream in all around us. We'll listen to the crash of the waves and breathe in the salty air."
It sounded heavenly. But she wouldn't be there to share it with him.
"When do you expect the house to be finished?" she asked.
"I'm hoping to have everything ready by the end of
September. Of course, I'm going to be away a lot for about six months. But you and Carly can supervise getting the place set up, ordering the furniture…"
He went on, but she didn't hear the words. He'd said it so casually. He was going to be gone a lot for about six months. He hadn't asked her to come along. He hadn't even told her he was leaving Wednesday. For once she would beat him to the punch.
"Rafe," she said suddenly, stepping out of his embrace and clutching her arms tightly around herself, "my vacation is coming up in exactly six days." She turned around and met his gaze directly, "I'll be leaving for Iowa on Friday night."
His jawline hardened. "When are you planning to come back?" he asked with deceptive gentleness.
She found she couldn't hold his gaze. Nervously she let her glance wander about the unfinished room. "I... I haven't made up my mind yet."
"You are coming back?"
She sighed. "Rafe, by that time you'll be totally engrossed in your new project. You won't need me anymore."
The silence between them crackled with tension. "What the hell are you talking about?" he asked, looking bewildered.
"About you." She thrust her chin out defiantly and stared back at him. "About your women and your films and all the things that you're involved in. I've known from the first that this was a temporary affair. It's about run its course, don't you think?"
"No.” He stared at her. “No, I don't."
She managed an artificial smile. "Well, I do."
He shook his head slowly. "You're joking, aren't you?"
"No, I'm quite serious. All good things must come to an end. This seems like a nice time to end this one." She flashed him a quick look, then headed for the stairs. "Give my regrets to your sister and Tom. I don't think I'll stay for the picnic."
His hand shot out to stop her; and she knew at once it was useless to try to remove his grip on her arm. Instead she turned her face toward his in earnest appeal. "Rafe, we've had a wonderful summer together. Why can't you leave it at that?"
He gripped her shoulders with both hands. "Because I can't leave it at that any more that I can give up eating or go without sleep." He shook his head sadly. "Can't you see how much I need you? You're all I think about."
"Rafe, please...."
"What can I do to prove that to you? What do you want? Marriage? Okay, marry me."
The words gave her a certain thrill, but she knew they meant little. Even if he did marry her to keep her around a bit longer, how soon would it be before he hated her for what she'd forced him to do?
She shook her head miserably. "Don't say that, Rafe. Don't try to buy me that way. You want me now, just like you want your Western epic." She let out a long sigh. "But when your film is finished, you'll go on to something else." She met his angry gaze. "Can't you see that?"
When he released her suddenly and turned away without another word, she thought she'd finally gotten through to him. As she descended the stairs slowly, then walked out to her car, she had the miserable knowledge that he finally realized why she'd broken with him this way, and that soul searching could only bring him to the same conclusion.
She drove home along the seashore road, and as she saw the hillsides burned brown by the late summer sun, she thought of the autumn ahead. Everything ended eventually.
He didn't come to her that night. Her bed had never felt so cold. The next morning was Saturday, but Thawn rose early after a restless night. She was watering the potted plants that filled her kitchen window when the doorbell rang.
"Come take a ride with me," Rafe said as she opened the door.
"Rafe, don't try to prolong this."
"Please."
His eyes were bloodshot, with dark circles under them. She knew his night had been no better than hers. Her first inclination to refuse evaporated as her heart went out to
him. She would do anything to erase the hurt from his expression.
"All right," she agreed. "Just let me get my sweater."
The morning was gray with the remains of an early fog bank that was just beginning to lift from the shore. Its filmy tendrils seemed to slither between the houses as the car took them out onto the highway. Thawn wished the sun would come out.
"Where are we going?" she asked.
"North."
She frowned, not sure of Rafe's intention. "How far north?"
He turned to look at her across the car seat. The weariness had faded from his expression, and in its place was a wicked smile. "A hundred miles or so," he said happily.
"Rafe!" She sat bolt upright and looked around wildly. "Where are you taking me?"
"I'll tell you, Thawn," he drawled lazily, the picture of triumphant self-assurance. "I thought over everything you said last night—about how we should stop seeing each other because I'm too unstable to maintain what I feel for you for any significant length of time."
She gasped. "That's not what I said at all!"
"Isn't it? That's what I heard."
"No. I...I wasn't blaming you. You can't help it—"
He gave a short, harsh laugh. "Lord, now on top of everything else I'm too feeble to control my own actions."
"Oh, Rafe," she wailed in despair, "try to understand. I wasn't condemning you, only facing reality."
He nodded. "Reality means I'm a Casanova and you're a trembling victim?" He glanced at her, his eyes burning. "That's your reality? I think you're looking at the world through some sort of screwed-up filter, lady. And I'm going to do what I can to clear your vision."
She shook her head. "By driving up the coast? What good will that do?"
He shrugged his wide shoulders. "Maybe a lot. Maybe nothing at all." He grinned again, his teeth flashing white against his tan skin. "But if you won't give me a marriage, at least I'll get a honeymoon."
She looked at him sharply. "Are we staying all night?"
He nodded.
"But I don't have any clothes with me."
His eyes twinkled. "That's how I like you best. Who needs clothes on a honeymoon, anyway?"
Thawn sat back against the seat and watched the rocky shore run more and more jagged as they climbed into the coastal mountains. The fog retreated, but low clouds hung on well into the day. It was almost noon when the sun finally came out.
Now they were approaching the large pines of the Big Sur area. Thawn loved it here, but for once the scenery didn’t do it for her. Her mind was roiling with conflict. She wanted to be with him, craved his smile, his touch. But she’d tried to make the inevitable short and semi-sweet, and he was just prolonging it. Still, she couldn’t resist him.
Glancing over, she caught an air of pleased anticipation about him that didn't fit the simple plans he'd outlined. Did he have something else up his sleeve?
"Are you planning to drive on up to Monterey?" she asked, digging for details of his scheme.
He shook his head. "Right now all I'm planning is a nice lunch with the woman I love."
“The woman I love…”
That gave her a jolt, made her gasp. If only she could trust it.
He stopped at a small grocery store along the side of the road and returned to the car in no time with a large brown paper bag bulging with food.
"A jug of wine," he quoted softly as he stowed the package in the back seat, "a loaf of bread..."
Thawn glared at him with mock indignation. "Don't put me into your little poem," she protested.
"It's too late," he announced as he swung his long body back behind the wheel. "You're in my poem— you're in my life."
He gunned the motor and took off down the road again, hunting for a likely picnic area. "The man at the store told me to look for a turnoff beside two liquidambar trees. Aha!" He pulled the car off the road.
The spot was perfect, on level ground screened from the highway by pampas grass but open to a gorgeous view of the sea crashing against the cliffs below. Rafe retrieved the bag of groceries and spread the items out on a blanket.
"The first meal of our honeymoon," he murmured, gazing at Thawn lovingly as he pulled off a handful of green grapes and handed them to her.
She moved uncomfortably, wishing she could figure out just what he was up to. "The first meal of my kidnapping, you mean," she grumbled.
He poured the wine into paper cups. "It was either this or straight from the bottle," he informed her. He handed her a cup, watched while she took a sip, then leaned forward to take a taste from her lips.
"Eat," she told him breathlessly, stirred as always by the passion that rose so quickly between them.
He withdrew reluctantly, and turned his attention to the food, eating with the relish of a starving man. They both ate heartily, then lay back in each other's arms to rest and enjoy the scenery. The potted cheese had been delicious spread on sourdough bread. Apparently even the ants thought so. A long line of them was marching across the blanket.
"Time to go," Thawn announced abruptly, standing up and shaking out the blanket. "There are some many-legged creatures in this world I can do without."
They stowed their litter in the trunk and drove on into the heart of the big trees. When Rafe turned onto a road Thawn didn't recognize, she glanced at him sharply but didn't say a word. Obviously he had a specific destination in mind.
Suddenly a road block appeared before them. Thawn sat up in her seat and looked questioningly at Rafe.
"Oh, it's you Mr. Armstrong," the guard said deferentially. "Go right on in."
Thawn's eyes widened. "What is this, Rafe?" she demanded as they sped through the barricade and rounded a comer.
"What does it look like, Thawn?" he answered, braking and switching off the engine.
She knew where they were before she saw the sound trucks, the dressing-room trailers for the actors, and the mobile film labs. This was the set for a movie being filmed on location. But why had Rafe brought her here? What was he trying to do?
"Come on." He opened the door on her side and pulled her out of the car. "Let's take a look."
They took only a few steps before Rafe was surrounded by people welcoming his arrival, clamoring for his advice. Thawn found herself being carried farther and farther from him until finally she dropped into a convenient folding chair and watched him while he and the entourage moved on down the road, toward where cameras and lights had been set up.
It was all so familiar—the frantic vying for attention, the pushing and shoving—and the achingly empty feeling of being hopelessly out of place. This was Rafe's world, Mark's world, but never hers.
But Rafe had stopped. A head taller than most of the people around him, he had no trouble spotting her. She saw him frown, say a few sharp words to the crowd, and step away from them to return to her.
"I was keeping my eye on you," he said apologetically as he stood before her. "Don't think I forgot you. I could see you clearly from behind all those people."
"That was more than I could do," she admitted, walking into his open arms and taking his bear hug with a glow of pleasure.
"Come with me." This time he took a firm hold on her and refused to let anyone separate them again. Caught up in the excitement, Thawn found she almost enjoyed all the attention Rafe received.
He introduced her to the director, and she was surprised to learn that the film was a love story Rafe was co-producing. "You didn't tell me you were working on something besides the Western right now," she accused.
He shook his head. "I'm not really. I wrote the original story, though not the screenplay, and I did most of the preliminary planning and assembled the financial backing. Jeff Corwin is handling the line production." He held her gaze. "Jeff and a young assistant we hired— Mark Lund."
Thawn froze. "How nice," she managed to say before Rafe led her down the road away from the crowd, where they could talk alone.
"Why?" she cried. "Why did you do this to me? What
can you possibly hope to accomplish by humiliating me in front of—"
Rafe took hold of her shoulders to quiet her. "Will you calm down and listen for a minute?" he ordered.
"What happened between you and Mark created a poison that's been eating away at you ever since. It's time you had it out and cleared away the debris."
She looked around rebelliously. "I don't want to talk it out with Mark."
"I know you don't." Rafe pulled her close. "But I want us to have a chance, Thawn. And we never will until you put your feelings for Mark to rest."
He glanced behind her, and she heard the sound of someone approaching. "Here he comes," he told her softly. "Do it for me, Thawn. For us."
He released her and left without another word- She stood where she was, waiting for Mark to step in front of her.
Outwardly he looked much the same. His blond hair still curled around his head like a wild halo. His blue eyes still gleamed with vitality. But there was an air about him of defensive reserve that he'd never had before. Or was it just that he hated her?
"Mark," she said stiffly.
"Hello, Thawn." He stood a few feet away from her and waited.
She swallowed and tried again. "I... I guess you're probably still angry with me."
"I imagine you don't have many good thoughts about me, either," he conceded.
She nodded. "Some things still hurt," she admitted softly.
They stared at one another, and the silence grew between them like a crystal wall.
Finally Mark broke it. "Rafe told me to talk to you. I didn't want to do it. I don't really see that we have anything left to discuss." He moved restlessly. "But Rafe's been good to me. He hired me when no one else would. He believes in my work. And I'll do just about anything to make that up to him."
Thawn let out a hollow laugh. "Including being nice to the person you hate most in the world?"
He shook his head slowly. "I don't hate you, Thawn. I'm sure you wanted to get back at me when you gave that interview to Jacqui. I just hope revenge was sweet enough to—"
"No!" Thawn broke into his bitter speech. "I wasn't looking for revenge. I needed someone to talk to. Jacqui was handy. I never dreamed she would print everything I said."
