Celebration

by Fern Michaels

  Cala and Tyler followed Mike off the parade grounds while Kristine stood at attention. She snapped off a brisk salute. “I can always count on you, can’t I, Kristine?”

  “Yes, Logan, you can always count on me. Who is that redhead sitting in the stands waving the flag?”

  “For God’s sake, Kristine, do I have to do your thinking for you? Don’t you have a mind of your own? It’s Rita Hayworth.”

  “Rita Hayworth is dead, Logan. She died a long time ago. Why are you saying she’s sitting in the stands? Why are you lying to me? Do you know that woman?”

  “Of course I know her. Don’t ever call me a liar, Kristine.”

  “I’m sorry, Logan. Do you like her better than you like me?”

  “What was that, Kristine?”

  “Nothing. Why is she watching us?”

  “Because I want her to. Any other questions?”

  “Is she your lover?”

  “She was. I decided you are my one true love. That’s why I came home. Do you forgive me, Kristine?”

  “Of course. I love you, Logan.”

  “I thought you did. I came back because I knew you needed me. I’m glad you aren’t independent like Danela.”

  “I thought you said it was Rita Hayworth.”

  “I said she looks like Rita Hayworth. You are so stupid, Kristine. I don’t know how we’re ever going to make this work again. Maybe it was a mistake for me to come back.”

  “Oh, no, Logan, it wasn’t a mistake. Please don’t leave again. I need you. I’ll do whatever you want.”

  The woman in the stands ran down the steps to the ground, the flag waving in the brisk breeze. “Steal my money will you, you son of a bitch! He’s a thief. He stole your money, too, and you forgave him! You must be the stupidest female on the face of the earth. All he wants is the rest of your money. He lies and cheats and steals. You can’t trust him. Don’t trust him, Kristine! He robbed me of all my money, so I was stuck with him. Run, Kristine, run to your children. Run! You have to get away. If you don’t go now, you will be lost forever.”

  Danela raced up to Logan, she whipped the flag through the air, and ran around him, totally wrapping him in the flag, immobilizing him.

  “Run, Kristine, run!” she screamed.

  Logan beat at the covers, pushing the pillows to the side as he gasped for air. He was drenched with his own body sweat, the sheets soaking wet. He swung his legs over the side of the bed as he struggled with a pounding headache.

  His head dropped to his hands. I never get headaches. I never dream either. Is this a harbinger of things to come?

  Danela was going to be a problem, he thought as he stepped under the shower once more. It wasn’t just the dream. He knew in his gut he’d underestimated his former lover. Danela was no Kristine. He needed to give some serious thought to her. A phone call would not be out of order. He needed a sense of what she was going through. He could handle her anger, but her deviousness was something else. Something he should have paid more attention to. Twenty-five thousand dollars wouldn’t buy him a scintilla of loyalty where she was concerned. He was definitely not running on all his cylinders. How the hell had he managed to screw that one up? Greed. Pure and simple.

  What he needed right now was a couple of stiff belts in the bar and some lively conversation before he took on the dreary task of Christmas shopping for his ungrateful children and adoring wife.

  Logan eyed the stunning blonde with admiration. He’d seen her earlier in the lobby and then again in the bar. Their eyes had met in the lobby; hers were as approving as his were at the time. He tried to ignore the old man in the wheelchair with the portable oxygen tank. His eyes bored into the back of the blonde’s head, willing her to turn around. She did, and smiled. He nodded, a smile working at the corners of his mouth. He signaled for the waitress and ordered a bottle of Dom Pérignon to be sent to her table.

  Father and daughter?

  Ridiculous.

  Rich old man and young woman? Rich old dying man and middle-aged woman who still looked good and was a nurse?

  A possibility.

  Husband and wife?

  Too stupid a thought even to consider.

  The woman turned and smiled in thanks for the wine. Logan nodded. He waited, sensing her indecision. Finally she crooked her finger for him to join them.

  “Justin Eberhart,” he said, using his alias. He held out his hand to the man in the wheelchair, who seemed oblivious to his outstretched hand.

  “Maureen and Stedman Clovis. My husband’s eyesight isn’t the best, Mr. Eberhart. He elected not to have surgery to remove the cataracts. He knows you’re here, though. It was very kind of you to send over the Dom. It’s my favorite.”

  “Call it a Christmas present.”

  “I love Christmas,” Maureen said. “So does Stedman.”

  “The venture capitalist? That Stedman Clovis?”

  Maureen smiled. “The one and only. And you are Justin Eberhart.”

  “From Africa,” Logan said without missing a beat. “I operate a safari business. I’m here half on holiday and half on business. It’s a little lonely when you don’t know anyone. Do you live inside the Beltway?”

  “We live all over the world. Stedman wanted to come back here for the holidays.” Maureen lowered her voice to a hushed whisper. “He loves the music, the decorations, and the hustle and bustle of the holidays. He especially likes the tree in the lobby. He could sit and stare at it for hours.”

  “And you? Do you like the holidays, too?”

  “Love them to death,” Maureen gushed. “Stedman wants me to buy out the stores. I willingly oblige.”

  Logan leaned over to inspect the shine on his shoes. He whispered, “Does he talk at all? I feel like we’re ignoring him.”

  “Stedman has emphysema, and it’s difficult for him to talk. He prefers to sit and watch what’s going on around him. It’s almost time for me to take him upstairs for his medicine. I usually read to him from one of the daily newspapers until he falls asleep. His nurse takes over from there.”

  “He must be grateful for your devotion.”

  “I’m the grateful one, Mr. Eberhart.” Maureen’s voice rose slightly. “My years with Stedman have been the happiest of my life. No one could want or ask for more,” she said as she brought Stedman’s bony, clawlike hand to her lips. She kissed it as she massaged it, the diamonds on her hand winking under the recessed lighting.

  Logan felt disgust at the sight. He wondered just how rich the venture capitalist was. All he had to do was call the reference desk at any library and he could find out in ten minutes. That’s what he would do first thing in the morning. Christmas Eve or not.

  “That’s wonderful,” Logan said as he slipped his card key onto her lap. He sucked in his breath as he waited for her response. Either she’d let the card drop to the floor or she’d slip it up the sleeve of her dress. She did neither, letting the small piece of plastic lie on her thigh.

  “Tell Stedman and me about Africa. It’s one of the few places we haven’t been. Perhaps when Stedman is more robust,” she said vaguely, her gaze sweeping the room to come to rest on Logan. “Safaris sound so interesting. All those lovely wild animals.”

  Logan was like a wound-up toy as he talked, careful to address his dissertation to Stedman Clovis, who stared at him with unblinking intensity.

  “It sounds wonderful, doesn’t it, Stedman?” Maureen said.

  “I think it’s time for me to call it a day,” Logan said. “It was nice meeting and talking with you both. Perhaps we’ll see one another again before I leave to return to Africa. It’s been a long thirty-six hours, and I’m not as young as I used to be. Jet lag,” he said as an afterthought. He waited an extra moment to see if the card key would be returned. It stayed right where it was, on the lovely Maureen’s luscious thigh.

  “Look, Stedman, it’s snowing again. I could go up and get your muffler and shawl and we could go outside for a bit. Mr. Eberhart can keep you company.
Would you like that?”

  Stedman Clovis turned to look out the window. Maureen took that moment to hike her skirt a little higher so she could slip the card into the top of her stocking.

  Garter belt. Logan smirked. He did love garter belts.

  The old man turned to face his wife. His skeletal head bobbed from side to side on his stem of a neck. Maureen sighed. “Then I guess we’ll say good night, too, Mr. Eberhart. It was nice meeting you. Merry Christmas.”

  “The same to you,” Logan said.

  Upstairs in his suite, Logan looked at his watch. It was eight-thirty. Ms. Maureen Clovis would be here by ten at the latest. He was so sure of it, his fist shot upward. He still had it. He’d never had to do more than snap his fingers and women were his for the taking.

  Logan picked up the phone to call for room service. He ordered two bottles of Dom Pérignon, caviar, fresh strawberries and cream. “Send them up at nine-forty-five,” he said.

  With nothing to occupy his time, Logan picked up the Virginia telephone directory. His hands trembled slightly when he flipped to the K’s. There it was, K. Kelly and the number. He read the instructions on the phone before he pressed a 1 then an 8 and finally the number. A chill ran up his spine when he heard his wife’s cheerful voice. He hung up immediately. He looked down at his arms to see goose bumps dotting his flesh. He started to shake then and didn’t know why. Kristine had no right to sound so damn cheerful. No right at all. His hand snaked out to reach for the phone. He drew it back just as quickly. No point in tipping his hand. This feeling, whatever it was, would pass. It was just the shock of hearing his wife’s voice and the excitement of seeing Maureen Clovis naked in his bed.

  Logan sprawled on the king-size bed. His thoughts weren’t on his wife or the lovely Maureen; they were on Danela. Where was she, what was she doing? He reached for the phone, then remembered he’d had the house phone disconnected. She certainly wouldn’t be in the offices at four-thirty in the morning. She was probably in England blowing the twenty-five grand with no thought for what the future held for her.

  Christ Almighty, am I getting soft in my old age? What is the fascination with Danela all of a sudden? Did he care for her more than he would admit to himself? Or, was it something else? More like fear. He shivered. Danela was like a smoking gun. Maybe she wasn’t going to go quietly. Maybe he made a mistake in kissing her off so nastily. He wondered just how pissed off she was. Why was Danela bothering him like this? He was half a world away. What in the damn hell could she do to him?

  Fear was a terrible thing.

  Fear was something he’d never really experienced before.

  He felt it now.

  The spandex dress was so tight, Logan wondered how she moved. He risked a glance at his watch: 9:57. Right on schedule. He wondered why the thought didn’t please him. “I wasn’t sure you’d come. You didn’t seem interested.”

  “You’re very brazen. I like that. I love taking risks. It makes it so much more exciting. I love excitement.”

  “You remind me of a sleek alley cat,” Logan said.

  “You remind me of a tomcat on the prowl. I hope you’re worth sit,” Maureen said as she started to remove her jewelry.

  “What if your husband wakes up? Will anyone come looking for you?”

  “Hardly. That’s why we have a nurse. Stedman won’t wake until eight tomorrow morning. I will make sure I am in my bed at that time. I don’t get up until he’s been made ready for the day. It’s a depressing business.”

  “I bet it is,” Logan said as he yanked off his Rolex. “Do you do this often?” he asked.

  “Every chance I get, which isn’t often enough. You do have protection, don’t you? One can’t be too careful these days. ”

  “Of course.” Like he really wanted to pick up some horrible venereal disease or, worse yet, AIDS.

  “Then let’s get to it. I have until seven tomorrow morning.”

  Logan wasn’t sure why he felt put off by her words. His face must have given something away. Maureen was half–crouched over, undoing the buckle on one of her spike-heeled shoes. “Having second thoughts?”

  “No. Most women aren’t so ... blunt.”

  “I’m not most women as you will find out. I came here to have sex with you. You gave me your card key because you wanted to have sex with me. You’re here, I’m here, so let’s get to it.”

  The erection Logan had moments earlier was a spongy mess in his shorts. “Let’s have some champagne first.”

  “Is that your way of saying you can’t get it up, and I’m going to have to work for it? If that’s the case, it might be better if I leave right now.”

  “That is not the case. I will admit to one thing. I haven’t been with a woman in a while. I had a seduction planned. It’s that simple. There’s more to sex than in and out. That’s what rabbits do. Obviously, you aren’t too choosy about your bed partners, while I—on the other hand—am choosy. Show me what you have going for you while I pour the wine.”

  “If we’re going to do show-and-tell, I’d like to see your merchandise. We can take it from there. That whipped cream really isn’t for the strawberries, is it?”

  “No, it isn’t.”

  “That’s an awful lot of whipped cream,” Maureen said.

  “Yes, it is.”

  She looked every bit as good as he thought she would. Her breasts were high and firm, her waist tiny, her thighs hard and muscular. His dick shot straight in the air.

  “Bravo!” Maureen said, clapping her hands. “Lick me all over,” she said, grabbing a handful of the whipped cream to rub on her breasts and belly.

  “Save some for me,” Logan managed to croak.

  “What’s your feeling on blueberry syrup?” She giggled.

  “Pretty sticky mess if you want my opinion,” Logan gasped.

  “The best is lick-off chocolate cream. I order it by the case.”

  “Jesus.”

  “Next time we’ll use it,” Maureen said.

  Logan, his face mashed between Maureen’s breasts, managed to say, “Is there going to be a next time?”

  “You said you were going to be in town for a month. So are we.” She moaned as Logan’s tongue worked its way downward. Logan managed to reach for one of the luscious strawberries and jammed it in her mouth. She spit it out. “I’d rather suck other things.”

  “Then do it!”

  She did.

  Maureen pulled the spandex dress over her head and smoothed it down over her hips. “You were real good, lover. So, shall we do it again?”

  “I’ll call you. It’s not like I’m going to be here in this hotel twenty-four hours a day. I told you, I’m here on business. That means I have to entertain and be entertained. I’ve got the whole state of Virginia to cover. At last count there were over a thousand travel agencies to meet with,” he lied smoothly. “There’s voice mail here, so leave me a message and I’ll get back to you.”

  “You’re making this sound like an ... arrangement,” Maureen said.

  “That’s exactly what it is. You’re married,” Logan said, virtue ringing in his voice. “Just how sick is your husband?”

  “He was supposed to be dead three years ago,” Maureen snapped. “Not long, to answer your question.”

  “Then what will you do?” Logan asked. “Are you sure you’re going to be provided for when the end comes.”

  “That’s all been taken care of. We settled things before we got married. I get everything. Why do you ask?” Maureen snapped again.

  “I’d hate to think you were screwing me for my money.”

  “Fat chance. I’ll probably inherit more money than you could earn in your safari business in ten lifetimes. Maybe fifty lifetimes.”

  “Inherit, Maureen. That’s the keyword. Your husband could hang on for another five years.”

  “So?”

  “So nothing. I just protect my interests. Just don’t be so sure you have more money than I do. That’s all I’m trying to say. I
like things out in the open from the git-go.”

  “Consider it out in the open. If you call me and leave a message, say you’re Harry Winston the jeweler. Stedman never answers the phone, but the nurse does, and she tells him everything. It was a great night. Have a Merry Christmas.”

  “You too.”

  Logan waited until the door closed before he got up to engage the security lock. He needed a few hours of uninterrupted sleep before he was ready to return to his wife and children.

  Right on schedule, Logan rolled off the bed onto the floor. He snapped to wakefulness as he eyed the messy room.

  Lust was a terrible thing.

  Ninety minutes later, the room was tidy, the cart with the remainder of the flat champagne, the wilted strawberries, and the empty container of whipped cream was in the hallway. He was showered, shaved, dressed, reading the day’s edition of USA Today and sipping strong black coffee. Later he would go downstairs for a full breakfast. For the moment he was content to relax with his coffee and paper and plan his trip to the farm.

  Logan’s mind drifted over the financial section of the paper until he remembered he was going to call the library to see what he could find out about Stedman Clovis. When he hung up the phone his eyes glittered. One woman with all that money. It was almost impossible to comprehend.

  Because the phone was still in his hand. Logan pressed the numbers to Maureen’s suite. He held his breath as her voice came over the wire. “I just wanted to thank you for a memorable night. I thought about sending you flowers but decided that might be suspect. I’ve been working on my schedule for the week after Christmas. If you’re amenable, I’d like to take you to dinner and perhaps a little dancing. I’m a romantic, what can I say.”

  “I’d love to see the bracelet. Perhaps we can arrange something between Christmas and New Year’s. I’ll speak to Stedman. You know I never buy anything without his approval. I’m sure we can work out a convenient time. If you’re willing to come to the hotel, that’s even better. This way Stedman can be with us. Perhaps luncheon. Thank you so much for calling. I look forward to meeting with you.”