Dancer in the Shadows

by Linda Wisdom

  Chapter Five

  Valerie's eyes widened in surprise at the sight of the large, sprawling H-styled ranch house. The outside was adobe and it had the traditional Spanish red-tiled roof with a covered archway above the oversized double front doors of carved dark wood. The larger windows, with black wrought-iron grilles over them, had window-boxes in front, adding splashes of brilliant color against the off-white background.

  "This is your house?" Her tone was accusing as she faced him.

  "That's right," he replied briefly, stopping the car and getting out to open the back door for Michael. "You're home, pal."

  While the small boy eyed the house with undisguised interest, Valerie slowly climbed out of the car, feeling as if she had been transported to another world. Her uneasiness increased as she eyed the impeccably landscaped area and the cement driveway winding toward the back of the house.

  "How could a mere army major afford a house like this?" she asked sarcastically, her arm outstretched toward the sprawling house.

  "It's been in the family for years," he explained impersonally. "I'll show you the inside."

  "It really doesn't matter." She shrugged her shoulders, trying to appear indifferent. "After all, I won't be here for very long."

  Sean shot her a sharp glance before walking toward the front door. "I suggest you watch your words," he murmured, a warning in his voice as he led the way inside. Valerie ignored him, looking around the cool interior of the entryway.

  "Sara, we're here," Sean called out toward the back of the house.

  "I can hear you all right. I'm not deaf." A cheerful voice sounded from down the hallway. The owner of the voice soon appeared and a pair of shrewd blue eyes examined the new arrivals.

  "Val, Michael, this is Sara, my housekeeper." Sean smiled warmly at the older woman. "No matter what, she seems to keep everything running smoothly. Sara, as you can guess, this is Valerie, and this is Michael."

  "And about time, too," she said briskly. "The rooms are ready. I suppose you'd better show them around, because I have apple dumplings ready for the oven and I want to get back to my kitchen."

  "Then I won't give you any excuse for them to fail," he teased, showing a new side of himself to Valerie.

  "I'll take care of the grand tour." He steered Valerie and Michael along a hallway to the right. She noticed several opened doors, revealing obvious guest rooms, until they stopped before a closed door. Sean's hand rested on the knob before opening it. "This is your room, Michael."

  "Oh, Mommy," he whispered, looking at the large room with a rocking horse in one corner and bunk beds dominating one of the walls. It was clearly a room meant for a boy.

  "Sean, it's too much," Valerie protested, alarmed by Michael's rapt expression. She could feel her son slipping away from her. Jealousy invaded her bones as she saw her son's love transfer to his father. "He's too young for many of those things. I can't allow it."

  "You can't allow it?" Once again, Sean's soft voice was threaded with steel. "I've been denied my son for too long, and I intend to make up for it any way I can."

  She flinched, as if struck, under his icy gaze.

  Ignoring her, Sean spoke to Michael. "You stay and look around while I show your mom her room."

  At his words, her head shot up in alarm. He had told her they were reconciled in name only. He was going to keep his word, wasn't he? The mockery in his eyes told her that he read her thoughts.

  "I'm sure you'll find your accommodations suitable." He gave her a gentle push down the hallway. Her steps faltered as they moved closer to the large imposing doors at the end. Sean stopped at a door on the right just before the double doors.

  "The master bedroom," he said drily. "Would you care to see it?"

  "No, thank you," she said stiffly.

  "Then look at your own room, instead." He opened the door next to them.

  Valerie walked slowly inside, charmed by what she saw. The large room was simply furnished; the double bed was covered with a colorful patchwork quilt, obviously handmade. A small round table, covered with the same patchwork print and with a small lamp on top, was next to the bed. There was a large closet to one side and a bathroom along another wall. Windows with colorful curtains and light wood furniture gave the room a bright and airy look. She looked around her, all her insecurities temporarily forgotten as she examined her new room.

  "Lunch is at twelve-thirty." Sean coldly broke in on her thoughts before striding abruptly from the room, a strange look in his gold-flecked eyes.

  She went over to inspect the beige and blue bathroom and came out to see her suitcases sitting by the bed. She had started unpacking when the door slowly opened to reveal a small figure.

  "My dad said you were here." Michael's sudden smile lit up his face. "Are we going to live here now? Where will Shelly sleep?"

  "She won't be staying here, darling, just us," Valerie replied carefully, sitting on the bed. "Remember how I explained to you that we would come here to live with your father?"

  "Does my dad want us here?"

  "Of course he does." She acted as if everything were normal. "Now, let's see if we can find the dining room." She quickly brushed her hair and dabbed on her perfume.

  "Dining room?"

  "In this house, I doubt very much we'll eat in the kitchen," she said drily.

  When Valerie opened her bedroom door, she was surprised to see Sean walking down the hall. Michael squealed with glee at seeing his father.

  Sean smiled warmly, the smile disappearing as he turned to Valerie. "I thought you might like some help in finding the kitchen for lunch. We're not too fancy around here."

  "Mommy said that in this house she doubted very much we'd eat in the kitchen," Michael parroted.

  "Did she, now?" Sean murmured. "Next time I'll have Sara use the best china and the dining room."

  "Please, not on my account. After all, I shouldn't get airs above my station, should I?" Valerie's green eyes were frosty as she looked at him.

  Walking back toward the front of the house, Sean steered them toward the other side, giving Valerie a quick glance at a large living room and another large room equipped with a console television set, stereo equipment, and a bar. Two long, comfortable-looking tweed couches were against the walls. She even noticed one room designed like a small ballet studio, complete with stereo, mirrors and a practice barre. Sean led them toward a swinging door opening to reveal a well-equipped kitchen. An oblong butcher-block table was in one well-lit corner with dark brown leather chairs around it. Shelves were set along the walls with decorative green leafy plants hanging down. Sara was busy at the stove, barely looking up when the trio walked in the room.

  "Everything's ready," she said briskly. "Better get seated."

  "Is there anything I could help you with?" Valerie asked, feeling uncomfortable at the idea of being served.

  "I run my own kitchen, thank you." Sara's manner was brusque but not unkind. "Would you like coffee, iced tea, or soda? I also have milk."

  "Iced tea, please." Valerie sat down at the table, uneasy as Sean sat down across from her.

  Valerie was relieved that Michael said nothing about their taco salad of crisp lettuce, tomatoes, cooked hamburger, taco chips and grated cheese, since it wasn't one of his favorite foods, but he ate every bite.

  "The house seems unusually designed," Valerie commented.

  A mocking look appeared in Sean's eyes, as if he had guessed, correctly, that she was only endeavoring to make polite conversation.

  "My father built it many years ago. He and my mother entertained quite a bit and the main part of the house is away from the sleeping quarters. Sara has her own living quarters. Then there's a pool and barbecue in the back."

  "A swimming pool!" Michael's eyes lit up with excitement. "Can I go in it?"

  "Not without me or your mother," Sean said sternly. "And that's an order."

  "I can swim," Michael protested. "I could from the time I was real little."

  "Micha
el was learning to swim before he could walk," Valerie explained. "And his preschool also had swimming classes every year."

  "You're not a normal mother, my sweet," Sean said with deceptive softness, his brown eyes capturing her green ones. "How can you work, spend so much time with our son, and still be able to go out with other men?"

  "I didn't start dating Craig until a year ago." She could have bitten her tongue for revealing those years of loneliness, the years when she would wonder where Sean was and secretly hope he'd come back. Now she was past that. He was back, not for her, but for her son—their son. So now he would have his revenge on her for not contacting him about Michael. She would be forced to live in his house, to watch her son's love transfer completely to his father. And that would hurt her the most. As these thoughts flickered through her mind, she was unaware that Sean was watching her under his eyelashes as he continued to talk with Michael. Deep in her own thoughts, she was startled to realize that he was directing a question to her while Sara set plates of warm apple dumplings in front of them.

  "What? I'm sorry, I guess I was daydreaming," she apologized.

  "I asked if you would like to go outside with Michael and myself." His tone was that of an adult speaking patiently to a scatterbrained child.

  "I'd like to go back for my car."

  "There's plenty of time." Sean shrugged his shoulders, tackling the flaky crust of his apple dumpling and ignoring her once again.

  The patio was laid out with a brick barbecue off to one side of the large pool. A curved slide stood near the diving board. Michael ran around excitedly, stopping only to dip his hand in the water.

  "Michael, you really should be having your nap," Valerie told him. "It's later than usual for you."

  "I'm too big for a nap," he cried stubbornly, but a word from Sean quickly stopped the beginning of a tantrum.

  By the time the small boy had changed into his pajamas, he was beginning to droop. He climbed into his bed and Valerie adjusted the covers over him, then left the room, walking down to her own. She was surprised to find Sean seated in the chair near the bed. "What are you doing here?" she demanded.

  "You don't need to worry about your precious body," he said sarcastically. "I just wanted to make sure the room was to your liking."

  "It's the same as any prison." She shrugged her shoulders.

  "It's whatever you make of it," Sean stated flatly, rising to his feet. "Dinner's usually at seven. Would six-thirty be better because of Michael?"

  "Why ask my advice? I'm just part of the package deal." Valerie turned away from him.

  In a single stride, he was beside her, gripping her arm and spinning her around to face him. "You're really going to be difficult about this, aren't you?" he grated. "I suggest you listen carefully to what I'm going to say because I won't repeat myself. You change your attitude now, or I'll be down on your head before you know what hit you. I'll make you rue the day you ever decided to cross me."

  "I already rue the day I ever met you!" she cried out passionately, vainly trying to free her arm. "I wish I had never seen you that first time on the beach!"

  "Then that makes two of us!" Sean growled, freeing her arm and stalking out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

  When Valerie looked down she saw that her hand was trembling violently. She slowly undressed, letting her clothes drop to the floor in a small pile. She walked into the bathroom and stood under the hot shower, willing her cramped muscles to relax. After drying herself off, she walked back into the bedroom and crawled into bed to fall into a deep, exhausted sleep.

  When she awoke later in the day, she wearily pushed her hair away from her face as she turned to glance at the clock. She was surprised by the late hour. It was already six-thirty.

  She quickly donned navy pants and a red-and-white striped blouse before brushing her hair into a semblance of order. Afterwards, she peeked into several rooms before finding Sean and Michael in the dining room. Her place was set at Sean's right, but he barely nodded as she seated herself. She began to eat the thin slices of roast beef in front of her.

  Valerie was silent throughout the meal, listening to the conversation between Sean and Michael. She felt jealous of their instant camaraderie, of a closeness she couldn't share with her son. A few moments later, the phone rang in the distance and Sara stuck her head around the kitchen door.

  "It's that Felicia Everest for you." She looked at Sean, her very manner disapproving.

  "Excuse me," Sean said as he rose from the table. "I'll take it in my study, Sara."

  Into Valerie's mind flashed the picture of the dark-haired woman who had been by Sean's side at the party. They were certainly more than casual acquaintances, judging by the woman's manner.

  "Jealous, love?" Sean's amused voice interrupted her thoughts as he walked past her. "What is that old saying? We envy what we can't have.'"

  She glared at his retreating back, refusing to answer. A moment later, she could hear him warmly greeting Felicia before the study door was pointedly closed.

  "I like it here," Michael happily commented, attacking his apple dumpling. "I liked it where we lived with Shelly, but now you have your very own room, Mom. You don't have to share it, do you?"

  "No, I don't, do I?" Valerie said, wondering why that thought hurt so much.

  Valerie turned, suddenly feeling Sean's mocking gaze boring into her. "I have a business appointment in twenty minutes."

  "Fine," she replied indifferently, turning back to her plate.

  A hand gripped her chin, jerking her around to face cold dark eyes. "For Sara," he murmured, brushing a light kiss across her lips, leaving them tingling from his touch.

  "She's in the other room," Valerie said coldly, keeping her voice low.

  "You don't need to wait up for me." He released her chin and straightened up.

  "Don't worry, I won't," she retorted, turning back and pretending to stir her coffee, much to his evident amusement. Moments later, the front door slammed and the roar of the powerful car engine could be heard.

  Later that evening, after Michael had been tucked into bed, Valerie wandered through the quiet house. Sara had retired to her room an hour before. Feeling too restless to read or watch television, she impulsively decided to take a swim. She quickly changed into a daring white bikini with crochet work along the sides of the narrow briefs and lacy halter top. She brushed her hair away from her face, pinning it on top of her head.

  Valerie gasped with delight as she dove into the cool water and effortlessly glided into a sidestroke. She became so engrossed in her swimming that she failed to hear heavy footsteps on the concrete patio.

  "Well, well; the water sprite is back." The familiar mocking voice brought her to a standstill. She quickly swam over to where Sean stood at the edge of the pool.

  "You frightened me." Valerie laughed nervously, gripping the edge. Her wrists were suddenly gripped by strong hands and she was pulled bodily out of the pool.

  "You shouldn't be out here swimming alone." Sean walked with her toward the sliding glass door that led into the den. "There are men you should be afraid of."

  "Are you one of them?" She seemed to challenge him.

  He walked over to the bar, pouring two drinks and handing one to Valerie. "Am I?" Sean asked softly, keeping his hand on the glass as she attempted to take it.

  Feeling uneasy under his hooded gaze, Valerie chose to ignore his question and quickly changed the subject. "I'm surprised you're back so early. I thought you wouldn't be back until much later."

  "Oh? Why?" He studied her face as he leaned back against the bar.

  "I got the impression that Felicia doesn't let go easily," she replied, sipping her drink.

  Sean lit a cigarette, his narrowed eyes watching her every move. Valerie wandered restlessly around the room, chattering to hide her nervousness. "This is such a lovely room. It seems to have such a warm feeling," she rattled on inanely, "although I would like to put some plants in here. The light is very
good for philodendrons."

  "Stop it, Val!" He slammed his glass down on the bar, causing her to jump. She didn't notice the white lines around his mouth.

  "Well, I guess I'll go to my room," she said hesitantly, setting her glass down. "Good night."

  As she passed him, Sean's hand shot out, lightly gripping the nape of her neck under her damp hair. "You should be afraid of me, angel," he said huskily. His fingertips stroked her bare midriff, burning her skin.

  "Are you drunk, Sean?" She was surprised to hear that her voice was steady despite the upheaval of her emotions.

  "Not drunk enough. Your skin's as smooth as silk." His fingers moved upward to cup her breast, bringing a trembling to her lower limbs. "Do you still sleep all curled up, Val? I used to enjoy watching you sleep in my arms all warm and soft like a kitten. And then you would turn into a passionate tigress, wanting me as badly as I wanted you." His soft voice seduced her senses, sending her swaying toward his hard body.

  Sean's thumb rubbed the hollow of her throat and his lips soon followed. He teased the corners of her mouth, leaving behind an ache for the full possession of his lips.

  "Sean," she breathed as his mouth closed fully over hers and she was lost. Valerie moaned softly as his mouth moved sensually over hers. She gripped the front of his shirt, her legs trembling so much that she was afraid of falling.

  Sean bent slightly, picking her up in his arms to hold her close against his chest. His lips brushed the top of her hair as he walked out of the room. She closed her eyes as she cushioned her head against his shoulder. His touch was reviving memories that sent hot flashes throughout her body. Moments later, he entered a darkened room lit only by the moonlight streaming through the windows. She felt herself being gently set down on yielding softness and soon Sean was beside her, his body half-covering hers.

  "The memory of you like this has been tearing at my guts for four years," he said hoarsely, his lean fingers stroking her slim throat. "The first time I saw you, you were wearing a bikini like this one." He smiled wryly. "The same color anyway, but not as seductive or revealing. If you had, I doubt I would have taken you back to your friends. I wouldn't have been able to let you go."