She glared around, searching for her shoes, hugging the sweater to her. Turning towards the patio, she found Zan leaning in the doorway.
'Where do you think you're going?' he asked warily.
'Home!' she snapped. 'I do have a home, you know, Zan, and just a few things to do there.' She whirled away. Where were her wretched shoes?
'We've got some letters to type first.' He slid the patio door shut and began to pull the curtains.
'Then let's do them!' Jade rapped the typewriter down on the table and laid out the paper. 'I haven't got all night.' Furious and not even sure why now, she turned to scowl at him, her eyes blazing.
'I'm thinking,' he said patiently. 'If you're in such a tearing hurry, run up and find my address book. It's on the bureau in my room.' Sitting down, he leaned back in his chair and stared moodily at the ceiling.
Jade skittered up the stairs and into his room, flipping on the light. The bureau was large, more a desk than a bureau, and cluttered. She stared at the piles of books, searching for an address book. A small red notebook caught her eye and she flipped it open. 'Harry Granger,' she read, and then an address. In parentheses below that, Zan had 'grandchildren (3) and canaries'. Mystified, Jade blinked at this cryptic notation.
She flipped a page. John Hudson was followed by golf, New York Yankees, and rum and Coke. Amused, she turned the page again. These were the notes of a busy man, considerate enough, or clever enough, to want to keep track of his friends' interests and preferences. 'Sheila Mallow,' she read. 'Gardenias and Italian food.' Jade's smile widened. Lindy Pierson liked 'Joy perfume and foreign films.' Diana Tallon was 'roses and incredibly ticklish,' according to Zan. Wanda Thayer. . . Jade shut the book with a snap, suddenly not amused any more. Taking it, she wandered around the balcony to the bathroom to inspect her hair.
She looked like a waif tonight in Zan's old sweater— eyes big and sad, hair windblown, cheeks flushed. Her nose would start peeling tomorrow. She glanced down at the book in her hands. And what did Mona like? Zan and real estate and old silver? She didn't even know Mona's last name to look her up and find out. A surge of sympathy welled up in her, as she thought of the laughing blonde. It must be dreadful to love Zan, really love him. Obviously, from the sheer quantity of women here in this book, he didn't take his loves any more seriously than he did anything else in his life. But then maybe Mona was the same sort. Maybe they were a good match—two devastatingly attractive, light hearted, light-loving people, skimming the surface, never stopping to feel deeply. No doubt life was gayer and simpler that way.
'Jade?' Zan shouted from down below.
Jade shivered and brushed her hair back. 'Coming, Master!'
'I'll just lie down for a minute,' Jade decided, studying the mattress on the newly-mopped kitchen floor with wistful reddened eyes. Her knees started to buckle, but she straightened them abruptly and leaned back against the kitchen counter instead. If she lay down now, she'd never get up again. Yawning hugely, she glanced slowly around the room. She was standing in the kitchen of the downstairs apartment of her own house. This room and the bathroom next to it would be home for the rest of the summer.
Above her head, she could hear the light footsteps of her summer tenant as she moved into the second floor apartment. It had been too late to cancel Cathy Kenyon's lease, by the time Zan changed Jade's summer plans for her. She grimaced, and it changed into a yawn again. Besides, she needed the money. The girl's rent would almost cover the mortgage payments.
Jade glanced around the kitchen again. The smoke-stained, streaky walls looked unbearably shabby, but, compared with its sooty condition of two days ago, the room was a miracle of cleanliness—all vacuumed and washed down and ready for painting. Later, when she found the time, she would paint the walls white and then would tackle the smoke-damaged front rooms of the apartment. It had been all she could do, this last week, just to scrub these two rooms and move out from upstairs, what with Zan demanding almost every waking minute of her days. She'd stayed up till dawn the night before last, and last night, she'd simply not gone to bed at all in her frenzy to finish the job. No doubt her half-holiday today was due to the shadows under her eyes that Zan had noticed yesterday.
That reminded her, and she blinked at her watch wearily, she was due at the condominium in half an hour. She should get moving. But it was easier to just slouch where she was, and she looked around the room one last time with sleepy satisfaction. Grubby as it was, it was nice to have a hidey-hole that Zan didn't know about. She didn't mean to tell him either. And she had instructed a wide-eyed, puzzled Cathy to say—if she was ever asked—that Jade had moved away to address unknown in early June. It was a silly impulse, no doubt, but somehow she wanted to preserve this scrap of independence , this last privacy from Zan if she could. . . He was such a tyrant. Speaking of tyrants . . . Jade pushed off the counter and then stood still for a moment as the floor tilted and then levelled again. Lord, she was tired!
Zan looked up from the sofa as she entered the condominium, then glanced at his watch pointedly. 'You're late, Jade.'
'Yes,' Jade nodded absently. The short walk over had finished her. She wondered if she'd even be able to see the typewriter keys, much less hit them. And there were hours left in the day, hours until she could lie down and sleep.
'Come sit down,' Zan commanded, patting the cushion beside him.
But Jade sank into a seat across the pit from him instead . He still made her nervous sometimes ^especially when his eyes narrowed to that laser beam look, as they were doing right now. She smiled brightly and waited for his scolding. When it didn't come, she relaxed, sagging slowly back into the cushions, her lashes drooping. She blinked, then jerked awake as the sofa dipped under Zan's weight. He leaned over her, studying her face carefully. She turned her head away, but a big hand caught her chin and swung her back for inspection.
'You look like you've been crying all night, with those red eyes, Red,' he remarked casually. 'Something on your conscience?'
Jade shut her eyes and shook her head, too tired to attempt an explanation.
'Did you hear from lover boy?' he probed.
Frowning at the label, she held her tongue, her eyes still closed. It was too soon to expect a letter yet.
'Or maybe you haven't heard from the skunk, is that the problem?' he asked whimsically. 'Hmm?'
It was easier to let Zan find his own explanations, Jade decided, than to find a lie that would satisfy him, since she didn't mean to tell him the truth. She hid in the dark, enjoying the unexpected gentleness of his hand and voice.
He released her, and fabric rustled nearby. 'Well, one thing's certain,' he remarked, 'you're no good to me like this.'
A hard arm slid behind her shoulders, something much harder beneath her knees, and her eyes flashed open. 'Zan!' She grabbed at his neck as the ground fell away.
'Sit still,' he chided gently. 'I don't want to drop you.' He turned towards the stairs.
'Put me down!' She gasped up into his face. 'You'll hurt your arm!'
His long lips twitched just above her. 'Only if you keep wiggling, sweet. I'm not carrying you with my wrist, if you give me the choice.' He was climbing the stairs now, his easy breathing belying the beat of his heart where her breast rested. His arms tightened for a second, then eased again, slowly.
Why fight him? Jade closed her eyes, her cheek on his shoulder, and let a slow, lazy tide float her away. This was heaven, so safe, so warm. Her eyes fluttered open as the bed sank beneath her. White walls . . . She looked up into Zan's face, her lips parted in sudden alarm. His room, not the guest room ...
'The view's the finest in the house,' he assured her patiently. 'And no strings attached, sweet. Daydreams for me, maybe. Strings for you, no.' He sat back, looking down at her. 'Now slide out of your clothes and go to sleep, and I'll see you when you wake up.'
She shook her head, her fringed eyes wide with sleepy fright.
Zan smiled crookedly and his hand reached out to smooth her
hair off her cheek. 'I'm not coming back to bother you, if that's what you're thinking, Jade,' he said softly. 'I like my women awake.' Leaning down slowly, he took her mouth in a warm, gentle kiss, and as her eyes fluttered and closed, she seemed to sink down beneath it—down, down into the pillow in warm, echoing waves of sleep and pleasure. Dream and waking were all one.
The kiss stopped, leaving her lips quivering for more. 'Nope,' he laughed huskily, just above her. 'That's all you get, not matter how you beg.' His knuckles brushed her bottom lip. 'Now can you undress yourself, sweet?'
Eyes shut, she nodded dreamily.
'Okay,' he said doubtfully. The bed rebounded, the door shut, and she slept.
Smiling, Jade woke and opened her eyes. Her mind peaceful and clear, she savoured the light in the room. Somewhere nearby, the sun must be shining. Reflections of water rippled slowly across the ceiling. Her eyes widened and she sat up. White walls, heaps of books— Zan's room. She stared around quickly, but the door was shut. She was alone.
She sank slowly back on the pillows, breathing deeply. What day was it? She looked towards the glass wall. From the angle of the light across the harbour, it must be morning. So she'd slept the clock around, then. She stretched luxuriously, and smiled again suddenly. She felt marvellous, as if her body still remembered some lovely dream that had just escaped her memory. She threw the covers back and swung her long legs off the bed.
She looked down at herself. Oh—oh! She'd slept in her clothes after all. Zan's question came back to her, and with it, his kiss. She sat still, feeling the blush sweep through her like a wave of heat. Slowly she lay back to stare up at the ceiling. Fred. Remember Fred? she asked herself wryly. The man you decided you could build a kind and loving life with? The kind of love you thought your parents had? She shook her head angrily. This was ridiculous! She couldn't, wouldn't let Zan disturb her like this. Not a joker like Zan. She sat up again briskly. A nice cool shower and coffee, that was what she needed. That had some common sense. She padded out of Zan's room, smiling no longer.
Jade was reaching for the handle to the bathroom door when it swung open, and Zan stopped short in the doorway, clouds of steam wafting up around his naked shoulders. Except for his right arm, the rest of him was just as bare. Paralysed, Jade stood there slowly drinking him in—damp, hard brown skin; pale gold hair hazing his chest, curling down in a line across his flat stomach to spread again across his trim loins and his hard thighs. Two parts Greek god, one part teddy-bear. She squinched her eyes shut, blushing so furiously she was almost faint with it.
In the darkness beyond her eyelids, Zan chortled softly. 'Didn't your mother ever tell you not to stare at strangers, little girl?'
'I'm. . .writing a book,' she managed faintly. 'Where do you think the material comes from?'
He laughed again and she. heard him move. She flinched as his hand slid into her hair, pulling her head back. 'Damn it, you slept in your clothes after all, Jade,', he murmured huskily, just above her. 'I'll have to find you something of Mona's to wear, I suppose.'
Eyes blazing open, she twisted out of his hold just as his lips brushed her chin. Her hair snagged in his fingers, bringing tears to her eyes, but with a toss of her head she yanked free. Spinning past him into the bathroom, she slammed the door between them, and leaned back against it, her eyes suddenly full of tears. Damn him! Damn, damn, oh, damn him!
Beyond the door, there was silence and then, perhaps, a low snort. Soft, slow footfalls told her when he padded away at last.
CHAPTER SIX
Working with her finest brush, Jade stroked in the shape of a mast here, just the suggestion of rigging on a boat there, a bright dot for a lobsterpot in the distance. She swished her brush in the can of water and leaned back to study the painting . . . Not bad. Not bad at all, really. It would certainly sell.
She looked out at the harbour again. The view from Zan's guest room balcony wasn't bad, either. Stunning might be even a better description. The only problem was that she'd been painting that same view for two weeks now, whenever Zan wasn't using her. She was ready for a change.
'Red?' Zan's voice came from below, and Jade let out a little hiss of exasperation. Sticking a bare foot over the balcony, she wiggled it derisively.
'Jade?' he tried.
'Yes, Master?' She leaned over to see Zan on the patio below. 'Has inspiration struck yet?' she mocked.
Head thrown back, Zan squinted up at her. 'Nope, I'm one big blank today.' He smiled ruefully. 'I think we're going stale here.'
Nodding in agreement, Jade studied his golden head. Two weeks of pacing in the sun had bleached streaks of silver through the honey colour, and his tan was terrific.
'So, can I go home now, if you're not going to write?' She had made almost no progress at all on her downstairs apartment. The door to the living room and the front entrance was still sealed off to keep the soot out.
But Zan shook his head slowly, frowning. 'Stick around, sweet. I may need you yet.'
Jade scowled down at him, recalling belatedly that she was not speaking to him today. On a silly impulse, she had worn a light, gauze sundress this morning, instead of her usual shorts, and Zan had been fascinated, had teased her unmercifully. They had spent more time bickering than they had writing, and finally she had retreated to the balcony to paint. In the meantime, he still had the clip he had snitched out of her hair, she thought wrathfully, brushing a fluttering lock back from her eyes as she frowned down at him.
Zan studied her face with amusement. 'What if it gets stuck like that some day?' he teased. 'What would you do then?'
Jade shrugged haughtily, trying to sustain the scowl, but beginning to lose it.
His grin widened. 'I guess it wouldn't be too dreadful,' he decided. 'You're always sexiest when you're angry.'
Jade ducked back out of sight before she smiled and leaned back in her chair. It was best not to let him get started like that. Trouble usually followed. And when would Mona return? she wondered for the fiftieth time. Zan obviously needed a woman—and right now she was the only one in sight.
More importantly, when would she hear from Fred? she wondered. He must have got her first letter a week ago. She should be getting one in return any day now. She sighed. She'd not been very specific in her own letter—mentioning a debt incurred, the need to repay it, and little else. She hadn't really tried to describe Zan. Fred was patient and understanding, but Zan surpassed most normal people's understanding—to say nothing of their patience.
An apple shot up into the air just past the balcony, hovered, and dropped straight down again. Jade's head swung around. Again it floated into view and vanished. She edged closer to the railing. The apple bobbed up for the third time and she nabbed it, laughing in spite of herself. She looked over the railing.
'Oh! Would you like an apple?' Zan looked surprised.
Silently, Jade shook her head. Reaching out, she tried to drop it on his head, but he caught it easily. He was getting good with that left hand.
Zan took a bite, watching her lazily. 'I'm going next door to see Jerry for a few minutes, Jade. I'll be back.'
'Well, don't hurry on my account,' she broke her silence to coo sarcastically. 'I just love cooling my heels here!'
Jerry was a retired lawyer. Zan and he could discuss the finer points of criminal law and criminals for hours, if not days, on end.
Zan's eyes gleamed. 'Well, if you want to keep your wandering boy at home, you know all it takes, Red.'
Jade smiled sweetly, batting her lashes. 'I guess Jerry has more to offer you, on second thoughts!'
Zan's lips quirked. 'You said it, I didn't.' Disdaining the front door, he ambled over to the corner wall and swung over it on to the boulders below, then strode out of sight around the corner of the condo.
Sighing, Jade stepped off the balcony. It looked like a slow afternoon. Time for a cool drink.
She was just pouring it when the phone rang. Her hand jerked, splashing soda across the counter top. No on
e ever called them. She had to look twice to even find the phone at the end of the counter nearest the dining room. 'Hello?'
There was a long instant of silence. 'Hello. Who is this, please?' The throaty, feminine voice started the question smoothly, but it ended with a bit of steel showing.
Jade eyed the mouthpiece doubtfully. Now who could this be? Mona? Or someone else? It didn't sound like an overseas call. She frowned. Somehow she didn't feel like explaining herself, whatever this woman's rights to an explanation might be. Let her ask Zan.
'Hello? Hello!' The voice had a definite bite to it now.
'Yes? Can I help you?' Jade said briskly, ignoring the previous question.
'Yes,' the woman clipped out. 'Let me speak to Zan, please.'
Zan—not Alexander. So she was a friend. 'I'm afraid he's not in right now, but—'
'When will he be back?' the woman cut in.
'I'm not sure. Could I have him call you when he returns?' Jade kept her voice determinedly neutral.
'No . . .'the voice breathed thoughtfully. 'No, I'll call him back later.' There was a note almost of threat in that. For Zan or for me? Jade wondered.
'Fine. Can I tell him who called, please?' She was suddenly depressed. She just wanted to end this.
'Just tell him . . . er . . . that an old lover called.' The woman chuckled nastily as she set the receiver down with a decided click.
Jade put the phone down thoughtfully. An old lover— so there was the end result of loving Zan in a nutshell, right there—jealously. How many women had loved and lost him? How much did it hurt when his interest shifted? Light-hearted, light-loving Zan, spreading jealousy and hurt behind him as he went on his merry, independent way. She shivered. No, thanks!
While she waited for Zan, Jade painted a study of the Newport Bridge—abstract, washy, and very blue. Not bad, she decided finally, though rather a departure from her usual style. She finished it and stood up, stretching hugely, to glance at the lowering sun. To heck with him! He could eat supper by himself, for a change.
The Darling Jade Page 8
