by Joan Hohl
“Good.” Smiling serenely over her gasp, Dirk swallowed the last of his beer. Catching the waiter’s attention, he indicated his desire for a refill, then lifted his brow at Tina’s barely touched wine. “Not thirsty?” Dirk’s gaze mocked her rising flush of anger.
Ignoring his question, Tina narrowed her eyes and glared at him. “What do you mean…good?”
Dirk laughed. “I mean ... good.” Exchanging the empty mug for the full one the waiter brought to the table, Dirk silently toasted her. “If my tight hold on the purse strings had anything whatever to do with the demise of your misalliance, well, then... good. I’m glad. Couldn’t be happier.” He smiled companionably. “Have I defined my expression fully now?”
“You really are a bastard!” Tina snarled in a whisper.
“I do try.” Dirk’s shrug spoke volumes about his indifference.
Frustrated by her failure to get at him, Tina raised her glass and gulped some wine, barely noticing the crisp taste of the drink Dirk had ordered for her.
Dirk observed her quietly, his eyes dancing with amusement, until she placed the empty glass carefully on the tiny napkin.
“Would you like another?”
Inside he was laughing at her, and Tina knew it. The knowledge infuriated her all the more. “Since I’m paying for it, why not?” Tina let all the bitterness and anger she was feeling show in her rough-edged tone.
Dirk was unimpressed, as he proved by grinning at her wickedly. “Would you like something to eat with it? Since it is dinner time ... and you are paying for it?”
Dinner time. Beth Harkness. Her house. The thoughts tumbled into Tina’s mind, reminding her of another very sore spot. Accepting a fresh drink from the waiter, she sipped daintily.
“Dinner.” Tina’s rough-edged tone had smoothed to a purr, somewhat like the noise one hears from a wildcat an instant before it springs. “That reminds me. Do you know, I’m paying rent to sleep in my own house?” She raised one brow delicately. “Isn’t that amusing?”
Anyone who really knew Tina would have been justified in becoming uncomfortable at her soft, chiding tone. Dirk was not merely anyone, nor was he in the least uncomfortable—if his lounging form and smiling face could be believed.
“A regular riot,” he concurred teasingly.
“Of course, Beth is throwing meals in with the rent.” Tina’s voice grew even more pleasant, and even more dangerous.
“Kind of her,” Dirk observed agreeably. “But then, Beth’s one of a kind.”
Tina’s fingers tightened their grip on the fragile stem of the glass.
“If you throw that wine at me,” Dirk warned softly, “I’ll shampoo your hair with this beer.”
Stalemate. Tina gritted her teeth and hated him with her eyes. Dirk smiled benignly into her hate. The tension humming between them was a palpable thing, tightening Tina’s already taut nerves, exciting her senses, and interfering with her breathing.
“I want to kiss you so badly I can taste you on my mouth.”
Tina stopped breathing entirely. Shivering inside the warmth of the jacket she had not bothered to remove, she stared at him in mute shock. Dirk was no longer laughing, or lounging. Sitting erectly, his gaze intent, he was watching closely for her reaction.
“That—that’s not funny.” Tina deplored the weakness of her tone, but the strength she strove for just wasn’t there.
“No, it isn’t.” Dirk’s low tone certainly didn’t lack strength. “As a matter of fact, it aches like hell.”
Tina recoiled against her chair as though he’d struck her. It was so unfair of him! The memory was there; had been there from the moment she’d spun around on the beach to face him. But it simply was not fair of him to bring it into the open. Protesting inwardly, Tina stared at him in anguish.
Why, she wondered in sudden weariness, had she ever expected Dirk to be fair?
“You ache too, don’t you?” Leaning across the table, Dirk grasped her hands with his. “Don’t try to deny it, Tina. Your eyes betray you.”
Oh, damn ... what Dirk said was true, though she’d endure mental and physical torture before she’d ever admit it, especially to him. Merely feeling his heated gaze roam over her body set her on fire.
“You really are a son of a—”
“Oh, honey, you don’t know the half of it.” Dirk’s soft laughter sliced across her hoarse voice. “I can be real mean when I’m hungry,” he whispered, the caressing movement of his fingers on her at variance with his threat. “And I’m getting hungrier by the minute.” Surprisingly, confusingly, he released her hands and sat back. “So, shall we order dinner?”
If Dirk had hoped to throw her completely off balance he’d succeeded admirably, Tina conceded wryly, clamping her teeth together to keep them from rattling. Her breath coming in shallow little gasps, she raked her mind for a suitably scathing put-down and came up blank.
“I’m going home now.” Pushing her chair back, Tina moved to stand up.
“Sit down, Tina.” There was no menace at all in Dirk’s tone; no warning, no threat. Still, there was something, an elusive something that touched her deep inside. Tina sat down.
“Do you have any idea how much I despise you?” Tina made herself meet his stare directly.
“Yes.” Dirk’s brilliant eyes clouded for an instant, as if with deep pain, then they cleared, glittering with a sexuality that was as terrifying as it was exciting. “And while you’re away from me, you can hate me with the fervor of a purist.” His lips curved in a knowing smile. “Isn’t it a bitch that when we’re near each other, the hate gets muddled by physical attraction?”
Tina wanted to scream a denial to his face. She wanted to but could not, simply because she knew he’d know she was lying. In an effort to combat the strange sensation that she was crumbling inside, Tina raised her glass and drank thirstily,
“My room is directly across the hall from yours.”
Tina choked on her wine. Coughing, she gaped at him helplessly.
“Oh, Tina.” Shaking his head, Dirk got to his feet to walk to the bar area. When he returned he was carrying a glass of water and two menus.
“Here, drink this and calm down,” he advised almost tenderly. “I have no intention of kicking your door down in the middle of the night to have my evil way with you.” One eyebrow arched in devilment. “Even though the idea is rather intriguing.” Dirk watched in amusement as she sipped gratefully at the cool water. When the choking spell was drowned, he returned to his chair.
“No, Tina. You’ll never find yourself in the position of literally having to fight your way out of my arms.” Dirk’s eyes caressed every feature of her face, setting off a tingling shiver she was beyond masking. The evidence of her response to his visual lovemaking lit a flame in the depths of his eyes and curved his lips in a smile.
“Ah, no, Tina.” Dirk’s tone of rough velvet ignited a blaze in her body. “You won’t have to fight me.”
Dirk had no need to elaborate and he knew it. Tina was well aware the battle was with her own unbridled response to him. Dirk was as aware of the fact as she.
Biting her Up, Tina drank more carefully, riling at the fate that had sent him to Cape May at this particular time. If she’d had more time to pull herself together, to rest and get a grip on the despair and anger driving her to near exhaustion, she felt sure she could have controlled this physical thing between them. Sighing, she watched him warily, knowing that if he touched her she’d go up in flames, and then she’d hate herself as well as him.
“Settle down and choose your dinner.” Dirk handed her a menu. “You didn’t think I was considering a wrestling match here, did you?”
“You’re disgusting!” Snatching up the menu, Tina hid her face behind it, hating him even more because she knew that, were he to attempt seduction in a very public dining room, he’d very likely succeed!
“We could begin with oysters.” Dirk’s dry tone drew her suspicious glance. “Never know when you’ll need fortifica
tion.”
“I’ll start with onion soup.” Tina smiled sweetly.
Dirk’s laughter, when natural and free, was a sound of beauty. “Thanks, honey. I haven’t laughed that easily in a very long time.”
His eyes were so honest, so open, Tina hated having to sink a needle, but she couldn’t pass up the opportunity.
“Trouble with the little woman, Dirk”—she hesitated briefly—”honey?”
Dirk’s reaction was immediate, and chilling. A coldness settled over his face that froze his features and hardened his eyes. And he used those hard-looking eyes to advantage, slicing through to Tina’s core.
“Not anymore.” His tone was as hard as his eyes. “And I’m not planning to have any with you, either.”
“No?” Tina dared to smile. “Then I’d advise you to rethink your plans ... honey. I’m going to give you more trouble than your wife ever dreamed of.” Leaning an elbow on the table, Tina propped her chin on her hand and smiled beguilingly. “I think I’ll have grilled ham”—she fluttered her lashes flirtatiously—”as my main course.”
From behind her teasing pose, Tina watched as the tension eased out of Dirk’s strong body, her chest heaving along with his in a long sigh of release.
“Excellent choice.” He applauded her tactics. “Oddly, I’d forgotten how much fun it is to fight with you.”
Pretending interest in the patrons on the other side of the room, Tina glanced away from him. “I can assure you, this time the fight will not be fun,” she said tightly, damning him once more for raking up the past.
“Maybe not for you,” he observed blandly. “But that’s understandable, you’re going to lose.”
Turning her head very slowly, Tina stared into his incredibly blue eyes. “Rather than divorce you,” she said scathingly, “I’m amazed your wife didn’t kill you.”
“She didn’t divorce me.” Dirk’s lips curved with scorn... for his wife or her? Tina wondered. He cleared the issue bluntly and succinctly. “I divorced her.”
Tina had never met his wife, had never wanted to meet her, yet at that moment she felt compassion for the woman who’d made the mistake of loving such a ruthless man. Glancing down at the menu still clutched in her hands, she sighed and closed it.
“Suddenly not hungry?” Dirk taunted.
Tina shook her head briefly. “I just remembered that Beth will be expecting me for dinner,” she lied, longing for nothing more than to get away from him.
The movement of Dirk’s head reflected hers. “No, she won’t. I told her we’d be having dinner out.”
“You told her?” Tina blinked. “When? I only left the house a few hours ago!”
“And I arrived less than fifteen minutes after you left.” Dirk blinked back at her mockingly.
Again cursing providence for sending him here at this time, Tina deplored the necessity but asked the obvious. “But how did you know I was staying there? Did Beth tell you?”
“Of course.” His gaze roamed her face, lighting with amusement at the evidence of anger tingeing her cheeks. “But I already knew. Where else would you have gone?”
Adding one and one, Tina came up with the obvious: Dirk had known she was coming home. And there was only one person who could have provided him with the information. Gritting her teeth, Tina promised herself she’d fire Paul Rambeau the moment she returned to New York.
“I asked Paul not to tell anyone where I would be.” Tina sighed. “How did you get the information out of him?”
“Is that his name? The one with the bogus French accent?”
Tina nodded curtly.
Dirk’s eyes glittered with some emotion Tina couldn’t quite identify. “Your new boyfriend?” His tone was as smooth as glass—or ice. Refusing to give him the benefit of any reaction at all, she simply stared at him. “What does he do?” Dirk’s brow arched. “At the shop, I mean?”
“He’s my top stylist.” Tina replied grudgingly, fully aware of what his reaction would be. Dirk’s bark of laughter proved her correct.
“A stylist!” Dirk’s condescending tone grated on Tina’s nerves. Still, she maintained a stoic silence. “How sweet.” His laughter subsiding to a deep chuckle, Dirk raised his glass in a mock salute. “Here’s to Paul ... just one of the girls.”
“You fatuous jerk!” Bristling, Tina jumped to Paul’s defense, conveniently forgetting her vow to fire him moments ago. “Paul is not only one of the most sought-after hairstylists hi New York, he’s one of the most sought after bachelors! He has more women than a rich Arab sheikh!” Her lip curled jeeringly. “Save your ridicule—or apply it to yourself.”
Dirk’s eyes glittered warningly. “Are you one of those women?” he asked very softly.
Her expression haughty, Tina mirrored his action by raising her glass mockingly in a salute to him. “Mind your own business,” she said pleasantly.
With a deceptively frightening calm, Dirk placed his glass on the table, then leaned forward in his chair. Only the flash in his sapphire eyes revealed the fury raging inside him. Lifting his hand, he grasped her chin with his thumb and forefinger, drawing her face close to his.
“Are you sleeping with him?”
Incensed, Tina glared into the shocking blue depths of Dirk’s eyes, hating him—and suddenly wanting him more than she wanted air to breathe. Determined not to humiliate herself by struggling against his hold, she sat perfectly still, refusing to answer, defying him with her eyes.
“Answer me, damn you!” Dirk’s voice had gone very low and scratchy. “Are you sleeping with him?” His grasp tightening, he shook her head slightly.
“No!” Tina spat the word through gritted teeth. “Paul’s an employee and a friend, nothing more. Now take your hand off me.”
Though Dirk obeyed her command, he did so with a lingering caress, trailing his fingertips over the satiny texture of her cheek. The shivering response Tina could not hide brought a satisfied smile to his lips. The tips of his fingers still burning her skin, he leaned closer to her.
“Come, Tina,” he whispered coaxingly. “Come one inch nearer and kiss me.”
God, she was tempted! Her senses exploding from the musky, arousing male scent of him, her lips tingling with the need to taste his, Tina stared at him, inwardly fighting the urge to lose herself inside the blue depths of his eyes. She was losing the battle when Dirk inadvertently turned the tide.
“Come, my love, let me have your mouth.”
A spasm of agony slashed through Tina at his hoarsely voiced endearment. The sudden urge she had to fight was violent. Dirk had called her “my love” that afternoon five years ago. Like the young fool she’d been, Tina had taken the endearment at face value, living to regret it with every fiber of her being. The impulse to strike out at him searing through her body, Tina drew a deep breath and slowly sat back, putting a measure of distance between them.
“Go to hell.” A confusing mixture of pleasure and pain washed over Tina at the way Dirk’s head jerked back, as if she’d struck him a physical rather than a verbal blow.
“I’ve been there.” Dirk’s smile held bitter humor. “I prefer taking you to heaven.” Tina’s involuntary gasp made his smile real and breathtaking. “I distinctly remember being there with you.” His gaze caressed her paling face. “Have you been there since, Tina?”
The implication contained in Dirk’s question was unnerving and insulting at the same time: unnerving for Tina and insulting to her former husband. Recoiling, yet determined not to reveal how deeply his shot had penetrated, Tina forced herself to be still.
“You really are a conceited beast,” she grated coldly.
“Very likely,” Dirk surprisingly agreed. “But along with my enormous conceit, I am also very honest.” He smiled with wry self-derision. “And in that honesty I must confess that my king-sized marriage bed never afforded me the exquisite pleasure I found hi your narrow, virginal twin-sized one.”
Abruptly Tina was on her feet and moving to the door. She had to get aw
ay from him or face the consequences he’d most assuredly mete out when she hit him ... which she was sorely tempted to do!
Tina was halfway down the next block before Dirk caught up to her. Grasping her upper arm, he brought her to a jarring halt.
“You’re always running,” he said in an exasperated tone. “Haven’t you learned yet that you can’t run away from the truth?”
“Truth?” Amazing herself, Tina dragged a ripple of laughter from the depths of her churning emotions. “One man’s truth is another woman’s fiction.” Feeling the encroachment of hysteria, she jerked her arm sharply in a bid for freedom; Dirk’s hold remained firm. “Damn you, let me go!”
“No.” Dirk’s tone was adamant. “Not now. Not ever again.”
Before Tina could find the breath to question his rather ominous statement, he began walking, forcing her into motion beside him. “You didn’t have your dinner.” Glancing at her, he added, “And I think you’re beginning to get a little light-headed.” Without pausing, he started back to the restaurant.
“Dirk! Stop this!” Tina’s voice held an edge of shrillness that carried clearly on the cold night air. Digging her heels in, she attempted to slow his determined stride. “I want to go home. I’ll get something to eat there.”
Surprisingly, Dirk stopped. Turning to face her, he caught her other arm and held her still. “Okay, Tina, we’ll go home.” His tone went low with emphasis. “We’ll go home.” Ignoring her gasp of outrage, he released her arms only to capture her hand inside his own. Striding along once again, this time toward home, he pulled her along with him.
Even with the long stride Tina possessed, there was no way she could match Dirk’s loping gait. Impelled into a trot to keep up with him, she was robbed of the breath necessary to vent her anger and frustration at him. By the time they had traversed the few blocks to her house, Tina was panting from exertion and seething with fury. Presenting a composed exterior to Beth Harkness was one of the most difficult things Tina had ever done in her life.
