by Lynn Turner
“I wouldn’t have gone,” Lacey told him flatly.
Neil frowned at the interruption, then continued as if it hadn’t happened. “And soften you up with a bottle of good wine. Then, when you were feeling relaxed and mellow, I was going to turn on the charm.”
Lacey’s disgusted snort brought a wry smile to his mouth.
“I think things started to go wrong when I offered to strip, and you told me in so many words that you weren’t attracted to senior citizens.”
Lacey found herself fighting back a smile. This was a Neil she’d never seen before: self-deprecating, droll, with a laconic wit she’d never even guessed at.
“Tell me,” she murmured dryly, “just when did you make these grandiose plans?”
“Yesterday, as soon as I got over the urge to find your house and beat the hell out of that pint-sized Romeo. When did you develop this disgusting weakness for jocks, anyway?”
“Paul isn’t a jock. He’s an engineer with degrees from three universities in two different countries.”
Neil grunted to show how impressed he was. “He’s just a shrimp.”
“He’s five foot ten—almost four inches taller than me.” By now Lacey found it almost impossible not to grin. This disgruntled old grouch was so far removed from the Neil Hartmann she’d known that it was hard to believe he was the same man.
“Are you sleeping with him?”
The question caught her by surprise, but only for a moment. Then she realized he’d been leading up to it all along and cursed herseif for a fool as she stood up to face him.
“Where do you get off asking me that?” she demanded furiously, “Whether I sleep alone or with the entire male population of this town, it’s no concern of yours!”
“All right, all right!” Neil held his hands up in front of him. “Take it easy. I get the message. I forfeited my right to ask that kind of question eight years ago.” Then he shrugged carelessly. “I just wanted to know how much competition I’ll be up against, that’s all,”
“You won’t be up against any competition,” Lacey snapped, “because you’re not in the running. Get that through your head, Neil! I’d have to be some kind of masochist to want to pick up where we left off.”
His eyes took on an opaque sheen, concealing whatever emotion her words sparked in him.
“I guess I deserved that,” he said flatly. “I didn’t think it would be easy. But if you’ll remember, Lacey, once I set my mind to something, I don’t quit until the job’s done.”
“Is that what I am—a job?” she asked scornfully.
A smile briefly touched his firm mouth. “The most difficult one I’ve ever taken on, from the looks of it,” he drawled. Then he unconsciously echoed her thoughts of a few minutes earlier, “I’d almost swear you’re not the same person.”
‘I’m not,” Lacey assured him. “I was a foolishly naive girl then. Now I’m a woman who knows her own mind. And who knows you for what you are,” she added scathingly.
That brought a flicker of reaction to his eyes before he turned for the door. He stopped with his hand on the knob to look back at her.
“I have to go back to Denver to finalize a deal, but as soon as that’s out of the way I’ll have some free time. I should be back around the middle of next week. I’ll come in to take care of the closing costs on the farm then. That should give you plenty of time to organize your defense.”
“I don’t need a defense against you!” Lacey snapped.
Neil smiled slowly and let his eyes run over her, from her hair to her toes and back again, taking his time. “Oh, yes you do,” he said softly. And then he left, before she could overcome her inarticulate rage and get in the last word.
Lacey looked down at the check on her desk and was tempted to rip it into tiny pieces. What kind of sick game was he playing, she wondered. He’d have some free time, and he thought he could amuse himself by tormenting her. Well, just let him try! Her mouth set into a grim line as she took the rubber stamp from the desk and endorsed the check, smearing the ink in her anger.
CHAPTER THEEE
“Beautiful pass, Scott! Now go for it, Todd! Don’t hesitate,chargeahead!”
It was Saturday afternoon, and Paul was shouting encouragement to his star players from the sidelines. He turned briefly to Lacey, his expression excited and baffled at the same time.
“Did you see that? They must use some form of telepathy—there is just no other explanation!”
He paused to laugh and shake a jubilant fist in the air when Todd neatly spiked the ball past a surprised goalie and into the net, then gave her his attention once more.
“So, did you find out why their father has suddenly turned up out of the blue?”
“He says he intends to retire here, and that’s why he’s buying the farm,” Lacey answered.
Paul frowned and pursed his lips. “He seemed much too vital a man to be thinking of retirement, though I suppose he must be old enough.”
“He’s only forty-five,” Lacey replied with just a trace of indignation. “And I’m sure retirement’s still a long way off. He’s just planning ahead.”
Paul gave her a keen glance, but didn’t comment on her slight defensiveness. They were silent for a while as they watched the soccer practice, Paul now and then yelling directions or criticizing a sloppy play or formation. Lacey stood beside him, frowning slightly, her arms folded across her blue tank top. Finally she asked, “Paul, did you think Neil looked sick when you met him the other day?”
He turned to her in surprise. “Sick? No, I wouldn’t say he looked sick. He did seem a little pale, and his features looked drawn—more like a person who is recovering from an illness, I would say. Why? Did he seem unwell to you?”
Lacey shook her head, still frowning. “No, not exactly. He just wasn’t acting like himself, and as you said, his color wasn’t good. I wouldn’t have thought anything of it, except that I remember him as always being disgustingly healthy.”
She shrugged as if the subject of Neil’s health was unimportant and tried to concentrate on watching Todd and Scott. But that didn’t help banish thoughts of her husband—quite the contrary. She couldn’t even look at them now without seeing Neil in them—in the way they scowled when one of them made a mistake and lost control of the ball; or the stubborn set of their chins… . They even walked like him, she thought, as Paul called a halt to the practice and they strolled over to the sidelines, Neil’s confident, rolling gait could almost be called a swagger, and she noticed for the first time that both boys walked exactly the same way. She let her thoughts drift as Paul reviewed the day’s practice and announced the time for the next one, knowing her sons would repeat everything he said like parrots in the car on the way home, anyway.
It had been three days since Neil’s last visit, and during that time Lacey had grown increasingly tense. He’d be back the middle of next week, he’d said. That gave her roughly four more days to decide whether to tell him he was the father of twin sons.
She was of two minds, torn between the dictates of her conscience and her deep-seated maternal instinct to protect the boys. He had a right to know about them—there was no question about that. It would be selfish not to tell him, to deny him the pleasure of knowing them. Yet at the same time she was afraid, and if she was honest, not just for the twins. Neil had never expressed a wish for children when they were living together and wouldn’t have had time to be a good father if they’d had a child. It was entirely possible that he would reject them just as he’d once rejected her. Or worse, he might decide to use them as weapons against her. She believed he was fully capable of using even his own children, if it suited his purposes.
Then, too, there was the unknown factor of how long he intended to stay in town. He’d said he would have “some free time.” How much free time, and would he spend all of it here? Doing what—launching an alhout campaign to convince her to give their marriage another try? The thought alone was enough to make Lacey shiver under the war
mth of the bright June sun. When Neil Hartmann went after something, he usually got it, and she had the uncomfortable feeling that by standing up to him she’d presented a challenge too tempting to resist. She didn’t for a second believe that he actually wanted to resume their marriage. Oh no, it was just the thrill of the chase that excited him, as she’d learned the hard way. Once he got what he thought he wanted, he soon grew bored and lost interest.
Lacey and Paul had a date of a couple of weeks’ standing that night. They were going to the country club for dinner, and Mrs. Moore was coming to sit with the boys. As Lacey emerged from a steaming shower, her mind partly occupied with deciding what to wear, it occurred to her for the first time that she was a married woman who made a fairly regular practice of going out with a man other than her husband. She frowned as she selected a clingy bright green Qiana dress from her spacious closet. Should she be feeling guilty.. .ashamed?
“Not one bit!” she muttered with quiet vehemence, Ringing the dress onto her bed.
There was absolutely no reason for any guilt on her behalf. Her marriage to Neil might still be in effect legally, but in every other way it had ended years ago. And not through any fault of hers! Why should she feel guilty about going out with Paul, enjoying herself a little, when’for the past eight years she’d lived the life of a nun while paying for someone else’s sins!
She stood wrapped in a towel in the middle of her bedroom floor as that last ugly scene in her office replayed itself on the screen of her mind. Her fists clenched at her sides, her heartbeat accelerating in agitation. Why had she ever opened up those old wounds, put herself through the pain of reliving the horror of that long-ago night?
For a moment hatred toward Jason Trent welled up inside, threatening to choke her. What was he doing now, she wondered resentfully. How had he spent the past eight years7 Living it up on the money he’d been paid by one of Neil’s competitors for the formulas he’d spirited out of the plant? That he’d stolen from a man who was an old friend as well as his employer was treacherous enough, but to have been so cowardly as to involve Lacey in the hope of saving his own skin, she found utterly despicable.
Still, she reminded herself grimly, she couldn’t lay all the blame for what had happened at Jason’s door. No one had put a gun to Neil’s head and forced him to believe Jason’s incredible story, thrown together on the spur of the moment in a desperate attempt to shield himself. Neil had accepted of his own free will what Jason told him, choosing to believe the man’s vile accusations over her tearful, pleading denials. And for that she would never forgive him. Never!
She dressed and made up for the date with Paul in a mood of angry defiance, determined to put Neil out of her mind for tonight, at least. He’d caused her enough anguish already, and she wouldn’t let thoughts of him spoil this evening!
Paul’s smile when she opened the front door to him would have been compliment enough, but he supplemented it by remarking softly, “Charming, cara, utterly charming. You took far too young and sexy to be the mother of seven-year-old sons.”
Lacey’s mouth tightened involuntarily as the comment reminded her of her sons’ father, but Paul apparently didn’t notice. He went with her to say goodbye to the boys in the family room, then took her arm as they strolled out to his dark blue Porsche,
The club dining room was booked to capacity, as it was most Saturday nights. It was a young crowd, and everyone there was known to everyone else. There was a lot of mingling, a lot of table-hopping after dinner, when the lights were lowered and a small combo moved in to provide the music for dancing,
“Will you do me a very large favor?” Paul asked Lacey as he shifted his chair closer to hers to make room for another couple at their table. When the dancing began, about half the tables were usually shoved against one wall to double the amount of floor space.
“Sure.. as long as it’s not immoral, illegal or fattening,” Lacey said with a grin.
He leaned close, his dark eyes glittering and a slight quirk to his mouth as he murmured, “Try to remember that you are here to enjoy yourself—and my company. If someone happens to mention that his house just burned to the ground, tell him to come in to the office tomorrow and you’ll settle his claim. But please, cara, tor tonight, no business. Can you manage that, do you think?”
Lacey sipped at her drink to conceal an amused smile. “I’ll do my best,” she murmured solemnly.
Paul often teased her about her dedication to her career, though she knew that in reality he admired that dedication and respected her for the success she’d achieved. He was really a very pleasant person to spend time with, she thought, as Phil and Sherry Engel pulled chairs up to their table and joined them. Paul was charming, witty, undemanding and secure enough not to feel threatened when they were out together and she started talking business, usually with another man, it happened again when Phil asked her about a commercial property she’d recently listed, and Lacey had to smile as she caught Paul’s comical grimace. After a few minutes she tactfully ended the conversation by claiming the band was playing her favorite song, grabbing his hand and pulling him onto the dance floor.
“Since when is ‘Smoke Gets in Your Eyes’ your favorite song?” Paul asked as he guided her around the floor with an enviable athletic grace.
Lacey grinned. “Since Phil started dropping hints about how much his property ought to be worth, compared to the lot Ed Weintraub is trying to sell. Besides,” she added with a straight face, “I’m here to enjoy myself, not talk business all night.”
His arm briefly pressed against her back, and he smiled down at her.
“I’m just thankful his house didn’t burn down,” he murmured, and Lacey smiled back at him as he spun her around in time to the music.
When they returned to the table Paul seated himself next to Phil and put Lacey beside Sherry, thereby forestalling the possibility of any lengthy conversations in which he wouldn’t be an active participant. Lacey realized it was a slightly proprietary move, but It was done with such charm that she somehow couldn’t be offended. And besides, he was right. She should concentrate on enjoying herself. Heaven knew she didn’t go out socially all that often. When she did havea function toattend in the evening, it was usually a meet ing of one of the several clubs and organizations to which she belonged, She and Paul rarely saw each other more than once a week, and sometimes not that often.
Still, she thought, when they were together she always knew she’d have a good time. He was really quite a catch; handsome, a good conversationalist, intellectually stimulating, not to mention incredibly virile. In short, Paul was everything any woman would look for in a man.
So why don’t I feel more for him, she wondered. Why don’t I get goosebumps when he holds my hand? Paul made no secret of the fact that he wanted to go to bed with her, and while the thought no longer terrified her as it had in the beginning, neither did it particularly appeal to her. She thought of Paul as a good friend—a very good friend—but it was suddenly clear to her that she didn’t want the relationship to develop beyond that stage.
Was it because she was so fond of him and didn’t want to risk losing the friendship, the easy companionship they shared? Or was it that deep down inside she still shied away from the thought of physical intimacy with any man?
And that, of course, brought her thoughts back to Neil, whom she’d determined not to think about at all tonight.
Oh, damn! she thought in exasperated anger. Was she destined to be haunted by him day and night for the rest of her life7 Even here, surrounded by the friends she’d made in her new iife, the physical proof of all she’d accomplished since they had parted, he intruded. She resented him for coming back into her life, but at least she no longer feared him, and for that she was deeply grateful. The fear had faded to a constant state of nervous tension—irritating, but bearable. He couldn’t hurt her any more, because she wouldn’t give him the chance, wouldn’t let him get close enough. Oh no, not again.
For the rest
of the evening she made a concerted effort to block any stray thought that might open her mind to unpleasant memories or pointless speculation about the future. Enjoy what you’ve got while you’ve got it. she told herself with sensible practicality, and she tried hard to follow her own advice.
When Paul took her home he stayed for coffee after Mrs. Moore left. That wasn’t unusual; they often finished an evening out by unwinding over a cup of cappucino, which he made, and maybe catching the end of “The Tonight Show.” What made this night different was that Paul turned off the television and tuned the radio to an all-night classical station instead, then drew her down beside him on the sofa.
‘This has all the earmarks of a classic seduction scene,” Lacey murmured,
“Would you mind?” His voice was soft, perfectly serious, his eyes solemnly holding hers. “Would you object to being seduced by me, caral You have known for a long time it’s what I want—for us to be lovers.”
“Yes,” Lacey admitted. She frowned, inexplicably disappointed in him. Yet, it was stupid and immature to feel that way, she knew. She’d always felt the time would come when Paul would want a definite answer one way or the other.
His arm slipped around her shoulders, his fingers feathering against her cheek. “Lacey,” he coaxed softly, “I am not an insensitive brute. I understood from the beginning that there was a great anxiety in you about allowing any sort of closeness between us. Since I have never been burdened with an excess of false modesty, I assumed it was not myself you feared and mistrusted but men in general. Now I understand that it was your husband who caused this fear, this mistrust.” He sighed, the pressure of his fingers increasing fractionally.
“Cara, look at me, please.” Reluctantly, she did. His dark gaze had a withdrawn, brooding quality as he studied her face. “I think, to my great regret, that you will never be able to share the best of yourself with me or anyone else until you have finished with him.”
