If only she knew when that would be! But if she went on feeling so despondent… She bit back a sigh, not knowing where it came from, or how to fight it.
'You're a nice man, Grant, and you deserve the answer you want. But at the moment I'm so muddled emotionally I can't think straight.'
'I gathered that. Someone mentioned you'd been dating Dane Jordan.'
'Yes, I was.' A tremor vibrated through her. 'But we…..'
'You don't have to explain anything to me,' Grant silenced her. 'I'm a heart specialist, remember? And I'm expert at mending broken ones! In your case I'm even prepared to waive my very considerable fee!'
Leslie couldn't help smiling. 'Sounds like an offer I can't refuse.'
'Well then ..He moved in on her, but she sidestepped.
'No, Grant, don't rush me. And don't raise your hopes either. I need time to come to myself; to know where I'm at, emotionally.'
'Keeping in a cocoon won't help you find out.'
'Nor will rushing into another relationship.'
'You really got hurt by Jordan, didn't you?' observed Grant.
'No. I hurt myself.'
And it was true. Blinded by the urge to take revenge, she had acted against her character, and was paying the price.
'Do you still love the guy?' asked Grant.
'I never loved him,' she stated vehemently. 'I had an obsession about him, but I'm gradually coming out of it.' She paused, wanting to explain why she had dated Dane, yet somehow reluctant to discuss her stepfather and the ugly events surrounding his stroke.
'One day I'll tell you the whole story, Grant. But for the moment I'd like to leave things as they are. I don't honestly know how I'll feel in the future and I'd be lying if I said I did.'
'But you enjoy being with me?'
'Of course I do. You're marvellous company.'
'And I have excellent references as a lover,' he said with mock solemnity. 'As a heart specialist, I'd like to prescribe some gentle treatment right away!'
'You're the doctor,' she said slowly, and made every effort to lose herself in his embrace as he drew her into his arms and pressed his mouth on hers.
He was as expert at kissing as at water-skiing, his touch confident, his hands soft but insidious, and knowing how to arouse. But she might as well have been a fish on a slab for all the response she felt, though she did her best to hide it.
It was well after midnight when they finally returned to her apartment. It was Sunday, and they arranged to have dinner together on Tuesday.
'My partners want to meet you during the week to discuss some changes to the ground floor of the clinic,' Grant said as he escorted her to her front door. 'If your secretary could call mine to arrange it…'
'I'll get her to do it first thing tomorrow,' Leslie promised. 'Thanks for a lovely weekend, Grant. You've been wonderfully understanding.'
'Something special's always worth waiting for, my darling, and I'm a patient man.' He smoothed her tousled hair, his fingers lingering on the curve of her cheek as he looked into her eyes. 'These past weeks have been the happiest since my divorce. I never thought I'd want to remarry, but we'd be good together, Leslie. We'd make a fine team.' She parted her lips to speak, but his thumb came across them to stop her. 'I know what you said earlier this evening, and I promise not to rush you.'
Not waiting for her reply, he strode away.
It was a pity Grant hadn't left things as they were, she thought as she undressed. Staving off an affair was not the same as allowing him to hope she might eventually marry him. But until her mind was totally free of Dane, she couldn't even begin to consider any kind of relationship with another man.
The door-bell cut across her thoughts, and she gave a nervous start. Who could it be at this hour of the morning? Grant returning? She didn't think it likely. Probably someone mistaking her apartment for the one opposite. It wouldn't be the first time either. The girl living there had a string of boy-friends who called at all hours.
But this time Leslie was wrong. Peering through the spyhole, she was stunned to see the unmistakable figure of Dane.
Leaving the safety chain on, she opened the door. Her heart lurched at the sight of him. He was unshaven and looked tired, his skin flushed as though he had been drinking. Not enough to lose control, perhaps, but enough to warn her to tread warily. Had he discovered she was Robert Webb's stepdaughter and put two and two together? Her heart beat faster.
'I've been trying to reach you since Friday,' he said without preamble. 'Where the hell have you been all weekend?'
'I don't think that's any of your business.' She kept her tone mild. 'Don't you think it's rather late to be calling on someone?'
'No, I don't.' He rattled the chain. 'Undo this damn thing and let me in!'
'I don't make a habit of seeing clients after office hours.'
'You know damn well I'm not here to discuss work!'
'Really? When I last saw you, you said we'd nothing left to discuss on a personal level.'
'I'm in no mood for games, he exploded. 'Open the door!'
Resignedly she did. Dane was spoiling for a fight, and short of having one on her front doorstep…
I won't offer you a nightcap, as you've clearly had several already.' She switched on the living-room lights. 'But I can make you some black coffee.'
'No, thanks.'
'OK. It's your hangover, not mine.'
'You're bloody well responsible for my condition!'
The sharp edge in his voice warned her she was treading on dangerous ground, but she was becoming too weary to care. 'Indeed?'
'Yes, indeed. I've been sitting in my car the whole evening waiting for you to come back, and it whiled away the hours.'
'Try a good book next time,' she said coldly.
'There won't be a next time, Leslie. From now on I'll be bringing you home.' Glinting eyes, almost black, showed the temper he was controlling, as did the thick eyebrows drawn together in a frown. 'Who was the man you were with, and what does he mean to you?'
So that was it! He was jealous again! She hid her elation and spoke in a deliberately casual tone. 'His name's Grant Hayward, and he's a heart specialist.'
'An old friend or a new one?'
'New.'
'You're on pretty intimate terms for a short acquaintance.'
'I don't know what you mean by intimate,' she shrugged.
'I watched him pawing you at the door before he left.'
'Peeping Tom, are you?'
'I was waiting at the end of the corridor,' Dane bit out. 'Didn't take you long to get over me, did it?'
'Is that what bugs you—that I'm not staying home pining for you? I'm a realist, Dane, and you made your feelings quite clear at La Costa.' 'So it's off with the old and on with the new?'
'Grant's a friend, nothing more.'
'So what were you two friends up to all weekend? Talking?'
'Yes, surprising as that may seem to you. We happen to have a lot in common.'
Suddenly weary of Dane's hectoring—last time his jealousy had only led to a sexual impasse, and this would no doubt end in the same manner—Leslie turned away.
'For heaven's sake get out of here and leave me alone. I've nothing more to say to you.'
'But I've plenty to say to you!'
His hands shot out and gripped her, spinning her round to face him. The wildness in his eyes showed that his anger came from more than pique, and, frightened, she tried to pull free.
'Don't worry,' he said grimly, 'I won't wring your neck, though there's nothing I'd like better. If you knew the hell you've put me through this month!'
'Hell? Why, I've done everything possible to keep out of your hair!'
'That's what's driven me mad! I'd hoped that by not seeing you I'd forget you—but it hasn't worked out that way—the opposite, in fact!'
Leslie's elation grew as it dawned on her that at long last, when she had settled for failure, her scheming was coming to fruition.
'I can't sle
ep, I can't eat, and I can't even look at another woman!' Dane went on, making it sound like the eighth wonder of the world. 'You win, Leslie. If there's only one way I can have you, then that's what it'll have to be.' His voice sank so low it was barely audible. 'Will you marry me?'
Leslie felt drunk with triumph. She had achieved the impossible; toppled the most virulent champion of Men's Lib! From tonight, the cause of bachelordom had received a blow from which it might never recover.
'You're asking me to marry you?'
'Do you want me to repeat it so you can have your pound of flesh all over again? Yes, Leslie, I'm asking you to be my wife. And if you refuse, I'll make your life hell till you agree!'
'Put like that, how can I say no?' she said huskily, re-thinking herself into the role she had created, which she would have to play for the foreseeable future. 'Yes, yes, yes, my darling! Just name the day and I'll be yours!'
With a shaky, indrawn breath, Dane wrapped his arms around her, the relief on his face so palpable it told her how scared he had been he might have lost her. His next words confirmed it.
'When I found you'd gone away for the weekend, and then saw that guy bringing you back tonight, saw the way he looked at you and kissed you, I thought I'd left it too late.'
Leslie almost felt sorry for him. Knowing him as she did, she knew what it had cost him to propose marriage. Not that he had actually burnt his boats proper and admitted he loved her, though it was implicit in his every action.
Winding her arms around his neck, she caressed the nape and ran her fingers through his thick, silky hair in a gesture of understanding. His response was immediate, and he claimed her lips with a passion that was all-consuming, as if wanting to absorb her into the very fibre of his being. Urgently he tore apart the fastening of her dress, which slithered to the floor, leaving her naked except for brief lace panties.
Automatically she went to cover her breasts, but he caught her hands and drew them to his throat.
'Don't fight me,' he said thickly. 'Don't stop me tonight.' He crushed her to him, his hardness throbbingly alive as he moved against her. 'Touch me, sweetheart, make love… hold me…' he said jerkily, and lowered her hands to his body.
Through the soft tangle of his hair, Leslie felt the dampness of his skin, the wild throbbing of his desire. It was a pulsating virility she couldn't resist, and it carried her on a wave of passion as powerful as his.
Recognising her surrender, he began kissing her again, prising her lips apart, loving her with his tongue.
'I want you so much, darling,' he breathed against her mouth.
Deftly he lowered her to the couch and shrugged free of his clothes. The almost imperceptible sound of his trouser-zip rang a deafening warning in her ears, and with a cry she jumped up and put the length of the settee between them. Was Dane playing her for a fool? Was his proposal a cheap trick to get her into bed? If so, she would call his bluff.
'I can't!' she cried, retrieving her dress and hurriedly slipping it on. 'I've told you before, Dane. Not until we're married.'
Dumbfounded, he stared at her. 'Don't you trust me?'
'Of course I do,' she said, but felt her cheeks redden.
'Liar,' he murmured, but it was not said angrily. Indeed a rueful smile moved his mouth. 'You're wrong about me, you know. If I could I'd marry you tonight, this minute.'
Momentarily, Leslie was disconcerted, for his sincerity was palpable.
'I-I'm sorry, Dane. It's just that after all the things you've said in the past, I find it hard to believe you really love me.'
'But I don't,' he announced smoothly, 'and I won't pretend I do. I desire you, ache for you, but I don't love you. I'm marrying you because I can't have you any other way. It doesn't mean our marriage has less chance of being successful. In fact the odds are probably better for us. Apart from wanting you like crazy, I enjoy your company and admire your brain.'
Leslie, trying to act like the girl she was pretending to be, wondered if she should ask for time to think things over. Or would a truly adoring doormat be willing to accept him on any terms?
'Well?' he said. 'You're not normally stuck for a reply.'
'This isn't a normal situation.'
'I guess it isn't. I'm sorry I can't declare undying love, but I won't enter this relationship on a lie. You have my friendship and respect, and I hope that's enough. Many marriages have succeeded on far less.'
'You're very convincing, Dane,' she told him softly.
'Does that mean "yes"?'
She nodded. 'But only on condition that you don't try to get me into bed until our wedding day.'
'What about a sofa, or the floor?'
'Don't be funny!'
'Who's being funny? I'm willing to take you any time, any place.'
'Stop it!'
'OK.' His smile was wry. 'I'll agree to your demands. But for my clients' sake at least, set the date soon!' He pulled her into his arms again. 'From experience, I can tell you that abstinence doesn't make the heart grow fonder. All it does is play havoc with one's concentration!'
'So will lack of sleep,' she answered, her green eyes wide. 'Do you know the time?'
'Nearer dawn than midnight. But at least give me a kiss before you throw me out.' He bent and placed his lips on hers, then moved them across her cheek and temple before finding her mouth again. 'Until tomorrow, my sweetheart,' he murmured, drawing away with reluctance. 'We'll go down to City Hall to see about the licence. Then if you're free for lunch, we'll discuss wedding plans.'
'I'll make myself free. From now on, you take priority over everyone and everything.'
'I'll double that in diamonds,' he responded humorously. 'At Tiffany's, in fact, to pick out your engagement ring.'
'You don't waste time, do you?'
'I've a lot to make up,' he said huskily, and putting her away from him, walked briskly out.
Leslie leaned against the door for several seconds. Then switching off the lights, she went into her bedroom. She couldn't understand why she no longer felt elated. On the contrary, she was decidedly depressed. Yet why? After all, she had achieved what she had set out to do. She hadn't been able to make him fall in love with her, of course, but that was the nature of the man rather than a fault within herself— and if anything, could be regarded as a plus. For knowing he was marrying her for physical reasons alone would stop her having any pangs of conscience when she eventually left him.
It was not until many months later that she had cause to question why she should have had a conscience about Dane anyway—and by then, it was too late for regrets.
CHAPTER EIGHT
As Leslie had anticipated, the news of Dane's impending marriage caused quite a stir, the media affording it the coverage normally reserved for pop- stars and mass murders. They were bombarded with requests for interviews, and even private occasions became public as journalists and photographers trailed them wherever they went.
Instant fame as Dane's fiancee was not a bit to Leslie's liking. Indeed fame on any level had never appealed to her. Success in her chosen field, and admiration by her peers, was all she desired. Yet now she found herself a public figure, gawped at and treated with awe simply because she was going to marry the most famous divorce lawyer in the States.
'I'm surprised you don't enjoy all the fuss,' said Dane, when she voiced her distaste. 'Most of the women I know would give their eye teeth for it.'
'Most of the women you know have only one thought in their heads,' she retorted. 'To catch a rich husband.'
'Don't knock them, honey. They do the best with what they have which is basically what we all do.'
Leslie made a face at him. 'I should know better than to argue with a litigious lawyer!'
'Can I take it you'll become a yes-woman?'
'Is that what you'd like?'
'Heaven forbid! A meek little hausfrau would bore me out of my skull.'
Leslie stored this away along with several other interesting titbits he had let slip, knowing it m
ight come in useful in the months ahead.
'Most men like to be boss,' she said aloud. 'Even when they pay lip-service to equality.'
I'm not most men,' he said good-naturedly. 'I practise what I preach.'
'How many women partners do you have in your firm?' she pounced.
'Not as many as I'd like.'
'You're evading the question.'
'I'm not, but we don't get all that number of female applicants anxious to specialise in divorce.'
'But all things being equal, would you be as happy to promote a woman as a man?'
'Certainly. Except that all things are rarely equal, are they?'
'You have a typical lawyer's habit of answering a question with a question,' she said irritably.
'It usually means the person can't think of an answer!' he chuckled.
'I'll remember that next time you do it!'
He chuckled again. 'I love riling you, darling. You rise to the bait so beautifully.'
'Well, I can't rise any more,' she said, glancing at her watch. 'I've an appointment, and I'm already late.'
He studied her for a moment, as if not sure she was speaking the truth, and she met his gaze unwaveringly. They were lunching at Jimmy's, a restaurant they favoured as much for the food as the fact that it was a half-way meeting place for them both.
'If you care to come with me,' she said, 'I'll prove it. It's at your house.'
'Our house,' he corrected. 'And I think I'll take you up on it.'
'Good. You haven't dropped by in almost a week, so you'll see quite a few changes.'
'OK—you've called my bluff.' Dane gave a sheepish smile. 'I'm due in court at three—or did you already know?'
Leslie was both amused and irritated. 'You really are a suspicious man, aren't you?'
'Not suspicious—just jealous.'
'Pity. And here I was, thinking you perfect.'
'I practically am,' he said solemnly. 'Hardworking, kind to old ladies and dogs, and extremely patient where my fiancee's concerned.'
She knew instantly what he meant, and coloured. Since the night he had asked her to marry him, he had behaved like a brother! So much so that she had occasionally found herself wishing he would lose his self-control! She had never tried to deny that she found him physically attractive, and seeing him most evenings as she was doing, the pull of his personality was, if anything, becoming more magnetic. It was the danger-point of their relationship; the one weak link in her armour, and it scared her to death.
Roberta Leigh - Too Bad to be True Page 7
