A Daring Proposition (6 page)

She almost jumped when he spoke.

“You know,” he said casually, “something didn’t quite jell there, Leigh. I’ve been under the impression that you either made a devil of a lot of wrong choices—and are as cynical as I am—or that you’re carrying a torch, being faithful to a lover you can’t forget. But back there…I would almost have thought you’d never been kissed before.”

“Think again,” Leigh said bitterly. “I’ve had enough experiences with men to last me a lifetime!”

He turned his eyes away from the road for a moment to study her averted face, and when his eyes returned to the traffic he was frowning, his fingers drumming an impatient tattoo against the steering wheel. Leigh sat as far away from him as possible for the rest of the half-hour drive home. Her face averted to the window, she stared at the houses and buildings and stores whirling by as if they were of intense interest to her. In fact, she barely saw them, and she could not help emitting an audible sigh of relief when she caught sight of the wrought-iron fence marking the boundaries of her property.

Before he’d even stopped the car, she had her right hand on the door handle, but he grasped her other wrist before she could escape. “You can hardly wait to get inside, can you, Red?” he demanded. “You’re going for the four-minute mile to the closest computer.. Will the email calling it off be waiting in my inbox Monday morning?”

Her lowered eyes spoke for themselves. His fingers reached over and raised her chin. There was extra moisture in her eyes, not quite tears, blurring her vision. He was too close. “Listen,” Brian said harshly. “I broke no faith with you, and I don’t intend to. A few kisses hardly constitutes rape!”

“All right,” she said softly, calmer now. She needed to believe him. Not for the sake of the child or the marriage, but for herself. She needed to trust someone.

“Do you want a promise? I would never force you to make love with me, Leigh. Is that black-and-white enough?”

“Yes,” she admitted, and gave him a tremulous smile when he released her, her relief obvious. She hesitated. “Trust simply doesn’t come easily. Perhaps in time.”

He reached over and opened the door for her. “I’ll call you when I’ve got the marriage ceremony organized. You get hold of your doctor, Red, and let me know the time and place.”

He left her standing in the driveway as he backed up. She shivered suddenly in the semidarkness. The house—her home—had welcoming lights within. Leigh knew Robert would have prepared dinner in her absence. All she had to do was walk in there and she’d be enveloped in the soothing folds of familiar domesticity—of Robert and dinner and washing up her favorite hand-painted china, of the work she’d brought home from White’s for the weekend. She worked overtime from choice rather than need—she liked the anonymous facts and statistics that required all her concentration.

Yet she turned away from the lamplit windows to stare into the darkness where the Morgan had disappeared. She was out of Brian’s mind, she was sure. His dinner engagement no doubt involved a woman, and it did not take an extraordinary amount of perceptiveness to figure out that the woman wouldn’t be the type to hold hands in a museum, or to go all prudish and adolescent over a few kisses. Leigh could well imagine the kind of women Brian dated: elite women, the country-club set. Leigh had grown up with them. Hardly hand-holders, she thought wryly. One had to worry about appearances, and one’s hairdo and one’s makeup—at least until the evening was over and the lights were out, and such things no longer mattered. Cats’ eyes all looked the same in the dark, her stepfather had said once.

That had been the beginning, when Leigh had first started to hate David Hines. He had spoken in front of her mother that time, but his narrow eyes had been focused suggestively on Leigh. Andrea had found it amusing that her daughter had been so upset. Of course David was looking at her, she’d said later; Leigh had a lovely figure, didn’t she? A lot of men were going to look at her that way. “You’ll learn to love it, darling,” she’d concluded with a smile.

“But he’s your husband,” Leigh had blurted out, a very young and naïve sixteen.

“He’s a man,” Andrea had retorted. “And don’t you forget—they’re all the same in the dark, too.”

Leigh had been shocked by her mother’s cynicism. But there had come a time when she had been forced to believe her. Men
were
all alike. Leigh had tried, but she could never be the kind of woman her mother so admired—hard and invulnerable and cold, using her sexuality to get what she wanted from life. Leigh could deal with her fears far better than she could shut off her heart from all feeling, the way Andrea had done.

I have to trust you, Brian,
she thought fleetingly, but only a moment later she thought that what she really trusted was his willingness to surround himself with anonymous tiger eyes in the night.

Leigh’s hands were clenched tightly in her lap as she stared unseeingly at the series of brightly colored posters on the walls of the doctor’s office. Brian, next to her, hadn’t said one word from the time he had entered the office and taken the nearest chair to her. His face was impassive as a statue’s, but already she was too sensitive to him not to guess how he felt: He disliked everything about this, and he disliked Leigh for putting him through it.

Determinedly she tried to concentrate solely on babies, on the possible look, feel, touch and smell of the child she wanted so badly. The child was possible only because he was here, and for one minute she felt sheer exhilarating hope, but then came the dampening awareness of the procedure that was soon to take place, and the more dampening awareness of the man next to her, so virile, so…still.

A white-clad nurse emerged from the inner office and beckoned. Leigh stood up, trying with moist palms to shift her purse strap to her shoulder. It slipped and she flushed, following the nurse with awkward steps, aware of Brian’s stare on her back.

“I want you to relax now, honey,” the nurse told her some fifteen minutes later. “That’s absolutely all you have to do.”

It seemed a century later that she was walking back out to the waiting room, making her way through a sea of faces to the receptionist’s desk. Her knees were shaky and her face chalk-white. The receptionist told her the amount of the bill, and Leigh stared at her blankly. Kindly, the receptionist repeated it.

“Pardon? Oh, yes, I….” They were all kind. She’d suffered no pain, but it was exactly as Brian had said: terribly impersonal, embarrassing and clinical. But it would be all right once she could concentrate on the baby again. It was just that she couldn’t seem to think of the baby at that moment—only of the cold, clinical procedure and how incredibly different it might all have been if not for that nightmare eight years ago…

Damp fingers fumbled with her handbag, and to her embarrassment the change purse slipped and coins clattered noisily to the floor. Her eyes widened when she felt Brian’s hand, firm and sure, on her shoulder. He bent to pick up the coins, took the purse from her trembling fingers. She’d thought he would be gone; there was no reason for him to wait, and they had come in separate cars. The tightness in his posture she had noticed earlier was gone, but his face was still a cold mask. He neither looked at her nor she at him as she finally managed to pay, but his palm still rested supportively on the small of her back as he ushered her from the doctor’s office..

“I’m driving you home. I’ll have someone pick up your car later,” he said as they walked the distance to the parking lot, his arm still firmly gripping her waist.

“There’s absolutely no need. I’ll—”

“Shut up, Red.”

Tears fell silently all the way home as she huddled near the passenger door, mortified that she could not control herself, that he ignored her completely. In the driveway, Brian dispassionately took out a handkerchief and dried her tears. She felt too weak, inside and out, to stop him. It was so ironic that yesterday she had gotten through the twenty-minute wedding at the courthouse with flying colors, while today she was falling apart. The thought of marriage should have been what upset her. Today they were making a baby, and she had no reason at all to cry.

“Leigh, was it so painful?” he asked quietly as he dropped the handkerchief and almost absently brushed a copper strand of hair from her cheek. “Does it hurt now?”

“No.” She shook her head, feeling the insane urge to press her cheek to his palm. A shudder enveloped her body as she struggled to control yet another round of tears.

“Do I have to remind you that this is precisely how
you
wanted it?”

“But it
isn’t
how I wanted it,” she said passionately. “It’s just that it was the
only
way! Leave it, Brian. I don’t want to talk. I wish you hadn’t waited.”

Abruptly, he reached across her to open the car door. “I’ll see you inside.”

“No!” she protested. “Just leave me alone.”

She saw the flash of anger in his eyes, but he let her go. She’d just taken a step toward the house when his own door opened. He stood up, staring at her over the hood of the car.

“For now, Leigh. For
now,
I’m leaving, but I understand you can take the first test in three weeks. Don’t be so foolish as to leave me waiting longer than a month.”

She nodded in automatic agreement, a vague motion of her head. She was aware that he watched her silently until she had safely traveled the distance to the front door and made her way in. By an act of will, she put him out of her mind as soon as she was safely inside her home. He was her husband. His essence of love and life was already inside of her. She was not going to think of either. Or of the nightmares.

***

Two days passed, and then three weeks more, while Leigh filled her days with work, grateful for the concentration that the impersonal facts and figures of her job demanded. She put Brian and babies out of her mind, filling every waking hour with activities designed to cushion her expectations and desperate hopes.

She took the first pregnancy test at the soonest possible moment, on a Monday morning. It was positive, she was told on Tuesday.

Her mood changed abruptly. Driving from the doctor’s office, she found herself laughing out loud with sheer, uninhibited joy. At home, she canceled all appointments, filled the house with flowers, went out and spent a ridiculous amount of money on groceries for dinner—and sent a box of the most expensive cigars she could find to Brian’s office…anonymously. And then she promptly forgot him altogether, as she had for the past three weeks. He could do as he liked; what did she care? Somewhere he had a piece of paper that proclaimed her last name was Hathaway, but if he had changed his mind in the past few weeks she would not press him. She had her baby! Her whole afternoon rolled around the wonder of it, a feeling of love growing inside her, a bubble that could not be burst.

Dinner was a real occasion. To Robert’s consternation, she had forced him into an old sport jacket that he hadn’t worn in fifteen years, and Leigh dressed herself in a long skirt of ice-blue velvet with a matching top. Candles had been placed on the table, and the menu, according to Robert, was not to be believed: fresh lobster, out of season; fresh strawberries, out of season; fresh asparagus, out of season; and champagne.

“Would you mind telling me what we’re celebrating?”

“Can’t we just celebrate?” she suggested impishly.

“You know,” the old man said perceptively, “you look like the cat that swallowed the canary. I’ve never seen you react to your job with quite that sort of color in your cheeks before.”

“I skipped work,” Leigh admitted blithely. “Frankly, Robert, I called in sick and played hookey. I’ve never seen the leaves as beautiful as they are today—it seems as if they all turned at once this fall. And the chestnuts and walnuts are starting to fall.”

“Leaving a godawful mess,” Robert commented.

She chuckled, motioning his hovering figure away from the stove. “The asparagus will take about five more minutes,” she said lightly. “During which time I could either sing ‘Waltzing Matilda’ or ‘Good Night, Irene,’ both of which I happen to know are your favorites.”

“Honey, I do love you, but I shouldn’t like to take the chance that your singing voice might curdle the champagne.”

She laughed and looked at him fondly. In his old tweed jacket and bow tie, Robert had made every effort to look dapper for her nameless celebration. His face was so wrinkled that she could hardly tell where the bones were anymore, and he seemed more frail to her each day, with a slight tinge of blue around his lips that worried her terribly. Still, his mind was so clear and his tongue so sharp, and she really did love him dearly…

Suddenly, the doorbell rang. “Damn!” Leigh wailed. “Everything’s just done, and it can’t wait or it’ll be spoiled!”

“I’ll get it, I’ll get it,” Robert soothed her. “It’s probably only that woman across the road still looking for her dog.”

It took a while for Robert to negotiate the steps to the front door. She really should have gone herself, Leigh thought. And she was definitely going to insist that he take it easier around the house.

She opened the pot of asparagus, and steam clouded around her in fragrant puffs, bringing an instant flush to her cheeks. She nearly dropped the lid when she saw Brian standing there, with Robert behind him wearing a thoroughly satisfied grin.

“Just in time,” the older man said happily.

“I didn’t realize I’d be interrupting your dinner,” Brian said, although Leigh thought he didn’t sound the least bit apologetic.

“Don’t be silly,” Robert said hospitably. He was already getting additional cutlery from the drawer. “You’re just in time to help us celebrate.”

“Then Leigh told you…?” Brian probed tactfully.

“All I know is that she’s been dancing around all day,” Robert said with his customary gruffness. “Now you’re here, maybe you can tell me what it’s all about.”

Leigh continued to fuss with serving dishes and pots, but her heart was thundering in her chest. Inevitably, she had to look up, and Brian’s eyes seemed to be just waiting to catch hers. She felt like a fool for sending him the cigars; a brief note would have been the sensible thing. She was embarrassed, and felt an odd stillness curling inside the longer he studied her. His broad chest blocked out Robert’s image, so it almost seemed as if only the two of them were there. His eyes skimmed all of her, the flowing mass of copper hair and the sparkling topaz eyes, the soft lips vulnerably parted, the sensual lines of her figure accented by the long, graceful skirt. She felt a quiver of uncertainty inside. He hadn’t looked at her like that before.

Relaxed, sure of himself, Brian leaned back against the door while she continued to work. “What’s for dinner?” he asked finally.

She told him.

“Oh,” he said dryly.

There was a wealth of meaning in that word, she mused, thinking that she should resent the stereotype of the newly pregnant woman with strange cravings; but she didn’t. She flashed him a private smile. He knew how much this meant to her, and she didn’t really care what he or anyone thought of her dinner.

“You don’t have to stand on ceremony for me, you know,” Robert told Brian bluntly.

“Stand on ceremony?”

The matchmaker nodded. “I know you haven’t had a chance to see Leigh in a few weeks. I told her all along I knew there was something between you. Maybe you two do things differently than in my day, but if it needs saying, I wouldn’t be shocked out of my mind if you…well, you know.”

“I get the drift,” Brian said blandly. So did Leigh, staring at Brian with startled eyes as he came closer. She put the platter of lobster between them, which he just as quickly removed to the table, his black eyes noting her distress with amusement. It was all happening just a little too quickly. Of course, for Robert’s sake there would eventually have to be some token gestures of affection, but not this moment, not before she had a chance to steel herself.

His mouth dipped to hers, a strong, firm palm nestling at the back of her head. He tasted first, his eyes boring so intensely into hers that she helplessly closed her own, her whole body rigid with panic. He tasted again, this time lingering, and then his mouth simply covered hers, stealing the breath from her as his tongue parted her lips. She tried to remember Robert’s presence, her pride. Her arms seemed to be in midair, a spoon in one hand. She could feel his erratic heartbeat on top of her own, the foreign sensation of her breasts intimately crushed, pressed deliberately against the solid, ungiving wall of his chest. For just an instant, she had a wild, crazy feeling…

Slowly, Brian released her, his palms trailing down her sides to her waist before he let her go. He was watching her. She took a deep breath with lowered eyes. “The ring is about to go on Leigh’s finger, Robert,” Brian said conversationally.

“I should think so,” the older man answered. The kiss had clearly delighted him.

“I’ll be moving in this weekend.”

Momentarily, Leigh felt stunned, as if she had just discovered herself to be barefoot outside in the snow. The kiss was shiver material, but it was over. Brian’s deep voice was clearly saying he was taking possession, and in front of Robert she would have to play along. She forced a smile as she moved away from Brian and sat down at the table.

“Come on, both of you,” she urged. She was starving; she’d been dreaming of lobster for at least a week, and it was a rare occasion when she had reason to chill champagne, although she had intended the bubbly wine primarily for Robert, contenting herself with the merest sip. She would take no risk of jeopardizing the health of the baby growing inside her.

“I saw your picture in the paper a few weeks ago,” Robert said pointedly to Brian. “Some blonde with you. A very good-looking—”

“Don’t worry about it, Robert,” Leigh interrupted imperturbably. “I told him to have one last fling or I wouldn’t marry him.” She hadn’t lived with Robert for twenty-five years without knowing that there was no point in trying to silence him. He shot her a baleful glance, presumably to silence
her,
then returned his eyes to Brian.

“Leigh and I were married three weeks ago,” Brian said quietly. “I suppose you’re wondering about the timing, Robert, since I had to be away for the next three weeks. At the time, I had in mind catching Leigh in a weak moment, before she had the chance to change her mind. I know she didn’t want to tell you until we could be together again.”

Leigh dished out the strawberries, topping them with a dollop of whipped cream. Her own dish seemed to be the largest, she noticed, which was certainly very unhostess-like. Strawberries in October seemed to have an incredible appeal.

“No wonder she’s all dressed up to celebrate,” Robert mused delightedly. “Well. More champagne, Brian! I had my suspicions, of course, and I approve of everything. Including your having the sense to take advantage of Leigh’s ‘weak moment.’ She doesn’t have many, you know. At least,” the elderly man added with old-fashioned pride, “she isn’t the type to run after a man.”