The Red Diary

by Toni Blake

  Maybe that's when it had really come together for him. upon realizing with unwavering certainty that it was the last. And as in one of the first, several weeks earlier, shades of blue dominated, yet this painting felt more intensely alive, more fraught with movement, billows of frothing white-capped waves splattering over pale sand. Not that the colors in anyone of his paintings were the focus, not that waves or sand were the elements that made the paintings live. Yes, if it hadn't been clear to him before, that moment was the defining one. Understanding what made them live.

  And understanding what made them live somehow made clear to him what he must do, why he'd painted them. It hadn't been a road to nowhere. A road to defeat and heartbreak, maybe, but not a road to nowhere.

  Other than Lauren, the only truly wealthy person he knew was Dale Gold, owner of Gold Homes, a builder who constructed custom houses up in Pasco County. He'd only done a few jobs for Gold-the operation lay too far north-but about a year ago, he'd worked straight through a holiday weekend on the exterior of one of Gold's homes as a favor when he needed it done in a hurry. Nick had been satisfied with the overtime pay he'd earned, but Gold had taken a liking to him and even invited him to a couple of company get-togethers at his oceanfront home near Tarpon Springs. Every time he saw the middle-aged man whose graying temples made him look dignified, he slapped Nick on the back, called him a hell of a worker, and said, "If you ever need anything, anything at all, I'm your man."

  Nick wasn't usually one to call in favors, but on Friday at lunchtime, he made a call to Dale and was lucky enough to catch him in the office. "Remember when you said I should ask you if I ever needed anything"

  "Of course, Nick. What can I do for you?" Dale's always-upbeat attitude reminded him of Phil Hudson, except Dale had always struck him as more competent, and more sincere.

  "It's kind of a big one," he warned. "I need to borrow a couple of things from you. Just for a day or so."

  "Name 'em." Dale didn't sound the slightest bit concerned, putting him at ease.

  "One of your speedboats," he began cautiously, "and your island." Dale had once mentioned owning a tiny island out in the Gulf, several miles offshore, where he took his family for private beach excursions.

  "Say no more, Nick, my man. I'll be home around six tonight-swing by anytime after that."

  Damn, Nick thought when he hung up the phone a minute later, that was way too easy. And maybe deep down he'd even hoped Gold would refuse him and prevent him from carrying out the crazy plan his own paintings had planted in his head. Instead, though, it was happening, so he had to believe in himself and not be deterred by the doubts of a lifetime. He had to show Lauren exactly how he felt once and for all.

  "Well, Davy," he said when he picked up his brother that evening, "I hope you didn't have anything special in mind for tonight, because I've got a little adventure planned, and I need your help to set it up. What do you say?"

  "Whatever you want, Nick," Davy said with his usual smile.

  As they worked that night, transporting the covered paintings out to the island, Nick and Davy talked, about a lot of things. Nick was stunned to learn his brother liked a girl who worked at Albertson's and had even gone so far as to make her a gift, something that sounded so beautiful he knew only Davy could've done it. Davy said he was working up the courage to invite her to go see the dolphins at the Sand Key Bridge one night, and Nick volunteered to drive them, his heart contracting for his little brother in a way it never had before. Davy told Nick, too, that he'd just finished reading Treasure Island and asked if Nick would take him to the pirate festival in Tampa next February. a request that caught him off guard just as much as the part about the girl.

  "Since when do you like festivals?"

  "I don't know. I guess it's like you're always telling me-I need to get out more."

  They were having such a good talk that Nick found himself explaining-without certain private details and also without showing Davy the paintings-what he was going to do tomorrow to try to win Lauren back. "Do you think I'm crazy?" he asked when he was done.

  "No," Davy said, "I think she takes away the storm inside you."

  He didn't even have to ask what Davy meant by that; he understood. And he hung on to Davy's words, and on to Davy's unwavering faith in him, hoping and praying he could somehow win back Lauren's faith, too.

  When Nick boldly knocked on Lauren's door the next afternoon, he got no answer. His heart beat even faster as he thought, Please be home. Doing this wasn't easy for him. but now that he'd come this far, he couldn't imagine turning back. not bringing his plan to fruition. He had to make Lauren see all of him. see how he saw her, had to make her understand the things he couldn't put into words.

  Letting out a sigh, he rounded the house as he had once before, one Friday night, that time holding a pale pink rose. No trickery now, though. Just make yourself say what you feel. If he'd managed to do that with his dad the other night, he sure as hell ought to be able to do it with Lauren.

  He spotted her floating in the pool, a familiar flowered bikini clinging to her curves. Seeing her filled Nick with an enormous sense of anticipation, but rather than startle her, he quietly walked up onto the patio and leaned against one of the doorjambs, ready to be patient, ready to wait as long as it took to do things right with her this time.

  Chapter Twenty

  When Lauren rolled off the air mattress into the water, she let herself dip under to cool down, then broke back through the surface with a splash. Smoothing her hair back over her head and starting toward the steps, she looked up-and spotted Nick standing by the French doors. Despite the heat. her heart froze.

  Her chest fluttered with countless emotions, but most were overridden by the memory of the last time she'd seen him like this. It had been different, of course. She'd been naked and he'd carried the rose from her fantasy. Somehow, though, she couldn't help thinking they were both much more naked now than she'd been then, only in different ways.

  Water dripped from her body as she left the pool and made her way to where he stood. Like once before, she moved steady and smooth. determined not to look surprised. He handed her a towel when she reached him, and she blotted the wetness from her face, her chest.

  "If you came by to check on your cat," she said, "he's fine. Izzy's only being a little standoffish, but that's just her nature." Well, other than where Nick was concerned, of course-with him, Isadora was a huge flirt-but Lauren saw no reason to remind either of them of a time when their lives had been more intertwined. "I think she secretly likes him, and I'm sure they'll get along."

  "I'm glad for the cat, but that's not why I'm here." She drew in her breath. Why was he doing this? Why did he keep showing up? Getting over him was brutal enough without his being here, in the flesh. looking so horribly masculine and ... touchable. "Why then?"

  "I need another favor from you, for me this time. I need you to go somewhere with me."

  Go somewhere with him? Was he crazy? "Where?" "It's ... a secret." He looked uncharacteristically sheepish, but that wasn't good enough under the circumstances.

  "A secret, Nick? Haven't you kept enough of those from me already?"

  He winced, appearing appropriately wounded by the jab. "I know it's a lot to ask, but I'm depending on your kindness here-I'm depending on you to give it to me one more time. I need to show you something important, and I know I haven't given you any reason to trust me, but I'm asking you to, just once more. Trust me."

  Lauren's first thought was to start yelling and screaming all the angry, hurt thoughts that had lived inside her for the past week. But she had a feeling Nick could already read them in her eyes. They both knew what he'd done.

  Her second thought was to simply refuse. No, Nick, I'm sorry, I just can't put myself at risk that way again.

  Yet certain curiosity grew inside her. She had no intention of ever forgiving him or trusting him again, but she wondered what the mystery was, what he had to show her. If she didn't find out, wouldn'
t she always wonder? Wouldn't she always harbor some hint of regret over not knowing what this last thing he had to say to her was? Getting over him was way too distant a goal for her to tell herself she didn't care.

  And besides. she couldn't help remembering the last time she'd asked Nick for a huge favor. to go someplace with her. She'd asked him to go to her father's. And he had.

  She kept her expression stalwart. ''I'll have to shower and change."

  To her surprise, Nick shook his head. "We'll be the only people there, and you're dressed perfectly for where we're going." The idea of heading off to she-didn't-know-where in her bikini flustered her. "Well, at least let me grab something to wrap around myself." She reached around him for the doorknob. "I'll meet you out front."

  "Lauren," he said, his eyes looking perhaps as soft as she'd ever seen them, "thank you."

  She didn't answer, just went inside and shut the door.

  She rushed through the house, practically tripping over Izzy, completely frazzled. Where was he taking her? And why was she agreeing to it? It means nothing, she told herself, nothing. It's only to satisfy your curiosity, nothing more. Even if seeing him again did nearly paralyze her, just as it had the other day when he'd delivered Leopold, as she'd named Izzy's new boyfriend. Oh. if she could only be as strong with Nick as she'd learned to be in other areas of her life.

  Tearing through a drawer of swimwear, Lauren grabbed out a sheer black sarong that tied at the hip and stopped midthigh. She flung it around her waist, peering in the mirror as she cinched it. It hardly covered much more of her, but it was something, and she couldn't think straight enough to look for anything else.

  When she exited through the front door a minute later, Nick stood leaning against one of the pillars he'd so recently painted. "You look beautiful."

  The words melted through her because Nick Armstrong seldom said such things with ease, nor with such sincerity in his gray eyes. Who was this masked man? She swallowed back her emotions. "Let's go."

  As they drove in his Wrangler, he attempted small talk, but she kept her answers short. Oh, how their positions had reversed, she thought. She wouldn't be wooed with something as simple as normal conversation, even if Nick did seem unusually persistent about it.

  "You need an alarm system," he said at one point. It caught her off guard. "What?"

  "I've meant to tell you that for a long time. You're way too trusting about things like that. leaving your house open to people." Lauren sighed, discontented, then finally cast him a contemptuous glance. "Yeah, I guess I did make it awfully easy for you, didn't I?"

  Nick never replied, simply gave her a look drenched in regret.

  When he finally pulled off the bay side road north of Tarpon Springs into the heavily shaded yard of a home much larger than her own, she said, "Where are we?"

  "Dale Gold's place. He owns Gold Homes."

  She sat thoroughly perplexed. "I've met Dale a couple of times, but .... "

  "He's lending us his boat today."

  She'd been trying to avoid eye contact as much as possible, but now she swung her gaze to him. "His boat? Where are we going, Nick?" In fact, why had she trusted him? Why had she let him bring her on this mystery trip? She knew the answer, but it disgusted her. She was weak with Nick, always had been. Nothing had changed on that front, whether she liked it or not.

  "Just trust me. Please."

  She sighed, their eyes still locked. Had she ever heard Nick Armstrong utter the word please? Even if she had, it had never held the heart, the soul, that this held. Damn her weakness. She turned her eyes back ahead. out the windshield. Nick parked, then led her on a path around the house and down to the dock behind, as if he knew the place intimately. He made his way to the smallest of three speed~ boats bobbing in a row, and she followed. He silently helped her step in.

  She took the leather seat next to Nick's, and as they started across the smooth Gulf waters, her mind swam with wonder and even a hint of fear, but she didn't ask anymore questions. She didn't trust him ... but really, she knew she did, in a way. She trusted him to take care of her, or she wouldn't be here.

  Within minutes. they approached one of the small uninhabited islands that occasionally poked up from the vast waters, and she realized he was slowing the boat. As they grew closer, she simply waited, watched. wondered why he had brought her here.

  He anchored the boat in shallow water and they both waded to shore, Nick toting a picnic basket she hadn't noticed until now. The island was the sort of place Lauren had ... fantasized about. The broad beach stretched white and soft around them, but sea oats and a profusion of palm trees, along with a gnarled island forest beckoning in the distance, made it seem wild and untamed.

  It was only as they moved higher onto the beach that she saw things placed there by human hands. A blanket lay stretched out, its corners secured with sand. Rousing her curiosity more, however, were the flat items covered with sheets, propped around the blanket like onlookers circling a stage, some supported by easels, others by nearby palm trees. Nick led her to the blanket, where she wordlessly sat down. Then he moved across the surrounding sand, beginning to remove the sheets one by one to reveal ... paintings. "I'm not good with words, Princess-there are things I can't say. But before we say good-bye forever, I wanted ... needed ... to show you how much I loved your fantasies, and that I've lived them all, through you, with you, like this."

  She looked around them, speechless. The graceful, detailed paintings Nick unveiled each depicted one of her fantasies, being enacted by them both. In one, she hovered on water as he appeared before her, splashing up through the surface. In another, she lay in a bed of pale pink petals and he stood above, sprinkling still more onto her stomach from an eternally giving rose. In a third, purple silk bound her gently to bedposts as he molded his body to hers.

  She studied each, entirely overwhelmed and awed.

  "You ... painted these?"

  Nick knelt before her in the sand, then met her eyes, looking unbearably sad. "Yeah."

  Her gaze strayed back to the color and sex that emanated from every canvas. She wanted to hate them. She wanted to hate that he'd done this, that he'd turned her private words into something bigger and brighter and bolder than she'd ever intended the dark thoughts in her mind to become. She wanted to think them horrid, invasive, pornographic. But she'd never seen sex made so beautiful.

  He bad turned her fantasies into far more than bodies, even far more than passion. He'd made them fluid and alive, at once fragile and unbreakable, light and dark, sometimes whispering with color. other times screaming with it. When she looked at his paintings of them together, something in her heart gathered warm and tight, pulsating out through her body until her fingers and toes actually tingled. Nick, she realized, had been keeping one more secret from her: He was truly an artist. "Do you hate them?" he finally asked.

  She swallowed back the lump in her throat as she turned to him, trying to summon words. Finally. she choked out, "Hate them? They're ... beautiful. They make me feel beautiful"

  A tentative smile unfurled across Nick's stubbled face. "Then maybe you see what I want you to. Maybe you see how beautiful you are to me, in every way."

  Tears tore at the back of Lauren's eyes, but she didn't want to cry. Finally, she just nodded.

  "Do you see anything else in them. Princess?"

  She couldn't pull her eyes away to look at the paintings again. though; she couldn't not look into Nick's dark gaze, plumb its depths, try to read his soul, something that had just opened up to her a little-a lot more.

  When she didn't answer, he moved nearer across the blanket, then reached one strong hand up to cup her cheek, their faces dangerously close. "Do you see how much I love you?"

  She let out a small strangled cry, then dragged her eyes back to the paintings. In one he held her on horseback, the tall grass waving around their ankles; in yet another, she lay in a bathtub as he crouched behind her, washing her hair, cool ferns surrounding them. From
the ocean to the prairie to the forest, to empty rooms to ornate ones, Nick made love to her all around them and oh God-yes, she did see, couldn't help but see, that he loved her. That's why the paintings were so beautiful, it's why they pulled so violently at her heart. They were sex and they were beauty, but they were also love. She wanted to say a million things, but her emotions were all spilling out in tears and sniffles now, so finally, she gave Nick the best she had at the moment-another nod.

  "I was never able to say it," be whispered. "I knew it was there, but the word just ... wasn't really in my vocabulary, you know? I spent my life blocking so much out, just being bitter, not really ... living. But you made me start living, Princess. And I do love you. And I'm so damn sorry for every mistake I made."

  Lauren simply gazed into his eyes. She didn't want to be a fool again. Yet ... oh God, she loved him. And his paintings were so stunningly lovely. And when she thought of the hours he must have spent, of the heart and emotion he must have put into them ... she wanted him. Even if it was a fool's move.

  She gently lifted both hands to Nick's face and kissed him. She meant to make it a soft. light kiss, something cautious. But instead she kissed him hard and firm and needful, until his arms closed possessively around her, until they were lying back on the blanket, his gorgeous face hovering above her.

  "I love you," he said.

  Sheer happiness punctuated the desire that pulsated inside her. She'd sworn to herself it didn't matter, his not saying those words. but it did.

  "I love you so much." "Show me," she whispered.

  She'd thought he'd make love to her then, but instead Nick knelt beside her and scooped her up into his arms. "Hold on to me," he said, and she looped her arms around his neck.

  "Where are we going?"

  ''To the water's edge. I could have shown you the paintings anywhere, but I brought you here because I wanted to help you live out one more fantasy, if only you'd give me the chance."