“Of course it does. Look at you. You’re beautiful … simply perfect.”
“Me? Perfect?” He chuckled. “No way, Alice. Didn’t you notice the shape of my legs? Don’t you dare try to catch a glimpse of my feet. And talk about proportions … Michelangelo would never have used me as a model!”
“Jace, don’t be silly.”
“I’m not being silly. You just think I’m perfect because you’re falling in love with me.”
“I’m … what?” Her coffee cup clacked against the wooden counter. “What did you just say?”
He looked back at her calmly. “That you’re falling in love with me.”
“Not too conceited, are you? Not too sure of yourself,” she spit out indignantly. “You are just too much. I’m falling in love with you? I can’t believe I’m hearing this!”
He leaned casually against the counter, perfectly pleased with himself. “Yup. You are and you’d better start believing it because I’m dying to hear you say those very words. I have the feeling that they’ll make me feel mighty good. Let me try them out on you.”
“Jace — ”
“Alice Treemont, I’m falling very much in love with you.”
She stared at him. “Are you making fun of me? Or is your idea of a joke?”
“Then it would be a joke in very bad taste.” Putting down his cup, he reached for her, pulled her into his arms again. “Do you think you could get used to hearing that?” He nuzzled the soft skin at the base of her neck.
“You can’t mean this.” Her voice had melted like liquid honey.
“I can. Do I have to say it again right now?”
“Yes, please,” she whispered.
“I love you, Alice Treemont.”
She curled against him. “Okay. You win. It feels good. It feels wonderful. And I’ll tell you what. I’m going to send the magic swinging right back in your direction. What do I have to lose? Jace Constant, I do love you.”
“No kidding.” He kissed her again, softly, lovingly, his mouth exploring the contour of hers. “My desert woman. As beautiful as a desert morning.”
• • •
Days flowed by in a haze of happiness and the magic held. But despite the intensity of their feelings, Alice knew the relationship was doomed to end. Eventually. Not that she wanted to think about that. Not yet anyway. Even if it was like waiting for the other shoe to drop.
This evening, as she was preparing dinner, Jace walked through the door, a bottle of wine in his hand. He kissed her, crossed the kitchen, opened a drawer and pulled out the corkscrew. But there was something wrong. She sensed it. Or perhaps she wasn’t totally convinced by Jace’s breezy manner.
“We celebrating something?” she asked lightly.
“Yup.” He pulled out two ancient crystal glasses from a cupboard and put them on the table. Poured out the golden liquid into them. Handed one to her. “You’re going to like this, Alice. The area around the Winterback Mine is going to become a conservation area and wildlife refuge after all.”
“Well, that’s wonderful news,” she said. Jace had mentioned the project several times over the last week, but she hadn’t known it was so imminent.
His eyes twinkled briefly. “A place where even snakes can be free of persecution. And there’s something even nicer. Dr. Laura Waterton, who’s in charge of the project, knows all about you. She reads your articles.”
“She does?” Alice blinked with a mixture of pleasure and surprise. “Funny. When you sit here in Blake’s Folly, writing about snakes, you feel so isolated. You wonder if there really is an audience out there.”
“Well, snake articles probably don’t hit the best seller list,” said Jace. “But neither do history books. I doubt if even a third of my friends have ever opened the ones I write. They only go for the best sellers, the investigations, the glamour stories.”
She looked at him curiously. “Doesn’t that bother you?”
“If I let it bother me, I’d have no friends at all.” He laughed shortly. “But getting back to the conservation area, Laura Waterton wanted me to ask you if you were interested in getting involved out there. As their herpetologist.”
“Really?” Recognition for her work, protection for snakes. And probably some money in her pocket.
“Just think it over, Alice. Nothing’s definite yet. We’re not even sure that the politicians will give in to all the demands, or that enough money will be allocated for the full education project. But, if it does, at least I won’t worry about you when I’m gone.”
“Ah.”
Here it was
.
Her pleasure vanished. Dread and anguish slid down the length of her spine like a finger of ice. This was the beginning of a good-bye scene. When would Jace be packing his bags? Tomorrow? Any day now? In a week?
Alice put her glass down carefully on the counter. She wished she could just let the subject ride, glory in the time they had left. But she couldn’t. She had to know, even if the answer was painful. She tried to keep her face as expressionless as possible. “And when were you planning on leaving?”
There was a flicker in his eyes and emotions like reserve, withdrawal, and discomfort crossed his face.
Was he afraid she’d make a scene? Is that what was worrying him?
Well, she had her pride. No way she’d let him know how bad this was going to be for her. She’d always known this would happen.
“I’m here for another ten days.” His voice was flat. “After that, I’m expected back for a series of lectures. And there’s all the publishing work to be taken care of at the university. I’ve been away too long as it is.”
Her mind fought to take in what her heart wanted to refuse. “Ten days?” she repeated faintly. She stared down at the tabletop. Why hadn’t he said anything before? The magic of the evening vanished, blown out like a candle, leaving only the cold dark room behind.
“Here today, gone tomorrow,” she said, tried to sound casual. Well, wasn’t that what a fling was all about? Just what had she been hoping for? Permanence? She didn’t know if she was angrier with herself or with Jace. Didn’t even know if it was anger she was feeling. Or frustration. Or loss.
“Alice?” said Jace softly.
She didn’t want to look up, didn’t want to meet his eyes in case he read the way she was really feeling.
Ten days
.
“Alice.”
She didn’t want to hear what he was going to say either. About what fun it had been. About how he hoped it had been as good for her as it had been for him. About how he’d never talked about permanence. About how she couldn’t expect him to stay with her forever.
She raised her hand in the air, the palm flat, as if to stop the words. Avoid complete disaster.
But he resisted her plea for silence. “Alice, listen to me.”
“No, Jace. Don’t bother.”
“Don’t bother what?”
“Telling me we can stay friends. That you’ve had a lovely time. That maybe you’ll come back for a visit one day, because it really was so interesting.”
“Is that what you want to hear?” His voice was hushed. Sounding dangerous. “Good-bye? Thanks for the fun? It’s been great but I’ve got things to do, places to go to. Time to get on with my life.”
She raised her eyes. Finally. Looked at him. His mouth had become one grim line; his face was white. “Okay.” She took a deep breath. “What did you really want to say?”
“I wanted to ask you if you’d come with me.”
Now she was sure she wasn’t taking things in correctly. “Come with you?”
“To Chicago.” She saw the hope in his face.
“Do you really mean that?”
“Of course I mean it. Will you come with me? Come and see my life?” He hesitated, as if doubting her answer. “I’d understand if you wanted to stay here, of course. I’d understand perfectly. You have new possibilities opening to you. Perhaps a paying job as a herpetologist out at the conservation area. I can’t blame you for wanting to stay. It’s just … ” He stopped, ran a hand through his hair in a distraught gesture. “I guess I just can’t see ending what we have. Not now.”
Neither could she. “But how could I go to Chicago? There are the dogs … ”
“I know. Come for a while, at least. We’ll find someone in Blake’s Folly to take care of the dogs while you’re gone. Let’s just see how things work out between us. See if there’s a future.”
Work out?
She stared at him, her mind whirling. How could they possibly have a future together? Their lives were so different; there was such a distance between Nevada and Chicago, and everyone knew long distance relationships couldn’t work. And how would she fit into his city life? Did she even want to? She’d already been there, done that. What if things went awfully wrong between them? What if all the magic suddenly disappeared? What if …
His eyes searched hers. He was waiting for her answer.
“Jace, what if what we feel is just something that happened because you’re so far from home. A bit disoriented out here in the desert. What if it doesn’t stand up to life in Chicago?” She was making herself more and more miserable with every word. “What if this has been nothing more than a holiday romance?”
He shook his head, denying the possibility. “That’s what we’ll find out. All I know is I love you. I can’t give you up. Not now.” He stopped, his mouth a fine line. “But perhaps you don’t feel the same way. Perhaps I’m not that important.”
“Oh Jace. You are.” She crossed over to him, threw her arms around him. “I love you so. I’m just afraid … ”
“Of what?”
He was right. What was there to fear? If they loved each other, they could make it work.
She pulled back and looked into his eyes. Saw the hope reflected there. “There is one major problem,” she teased.
He looked gruff. “What major problem?”
“Tanya. How’s Tanya going to like the arrangement?”
“Tanya?” Jace’s face changed. He looked slightly puzzled. “What does Tanya … ” He stopped.
She tried to look perfectly innocent. “Perhaps we should fix Tanya up with Brad.”
The living room was huge. Jace’s whole apartment was huge. Airy, bright, luxurious. How had he once described it? “Impersonal. An apartment. Not a home.”
Well, it
was
impersonal. And ultra modern. And glamorous. Not cozy. Anything but cozy. The obviously expensive furniture looked so modern, it had definitely been delivered by spaceship. On the wall hung large bright bloody-looking blobs: the contemporary abstract art Jace said he loved.
Compared to her house in Blake’s Folly — a place chock full of the crumbling debris of centuries — this apartment was, well … worse than impersonal. Secretly, Alice called it bleak. She’d been here for two weeks now, and still couldn’t get used to the bleakness.
And what a change from Blake’s Folly, the center of Chicago was. A growing sense of foreboding told her she’d never adapt. Never, ever. And that would eat away at the fabric of what she and Jace shared. Jace was still Jace, and only the surroundings were different. But with each passing day, she felt less and less like Alice.
There was nothing bleak about one room, though: the room Jace used as an office. There, shelves groaned under the weight of heavy tomes, some of them quite ancient. Only in that study, did Alice feel at ease. It would be the perfect room to work in — if she’d been able to work. But where would she to find a snake to study and photograph in the middle of Chicago?
Only in the reptile zoo. Magnificent specimens, all of them. Gleaming and passive behind the thick glass walls of their cases. Like prisoners. She was beginning to identify with their fate, too. Behind the wide glass windows of Jake’s condominium, she was also a well-fed, very protected captive. Except she’d come here willingly. A prisoner of love.
When she was with Jace, life was glorious. He showed her the busy city, took her to concerts, to the theater, to intimate restaurants where they ate wonderful food, and in night’s dark hours, their loving was sublime. But, during the day, Jace was busy out at the university. That was unavoidable. He had work to catch up on, people to see. Only a temporary situation, he’d assured her. In a few weeks’ time, he’d be freer. Free to spend more time with her. She knew how guilty he felt, leaving her on her own all the time. Out of her element. With no serious occupation.
Museums and art galleries were wonderful places. But not every day. And Alice hated window-shopping. For her, sleek boutiques couldn’t compare with Rose’s musty shop, its treasures from another epoch, its fusty armchair where she’d sat and gossiped for hours. She tried hard not to enumerate all the other things she also missed, but couldn’t stop herself. She missed her nosy, prying neighbors, and wondered what they were getting up to these days; in the elevator that swooped her up to Jace’s fortieth floor apartment, people fixed their eyes on some invisible point and avoided eye contact at all costs. She missed the soft, furry presence of her dogs; pets were forbidden in this building. She missed the silent sweep of the desert, the scratch of scrub when the shivering wind curled down from the north, the changing seasons. She missed the moments she’d spent with Jace, tramping over that vast wasteland together.
The only thing she treasured here in Chicago, was loving Jace — loving he returned fully. She’d never known such joy could exist. If only they were both in Nevada. If only they were both sitting together in her yellow kitchen again, exchanging the small details of a busy day. Back in Blake’s Folly, she’d have her work, her reference books, her photos. And, perhaps even a job out in the Winterback Mine Conservation Area. How frustrating to be cut loose from the life she’d created and cherished for the last ten years.
And that wasn’t all. Although he never mentioned it, never even touched on the subject, Alice knew that Jace was itching to sit down, get on with the writing of his book. But he couldn’t. Because she was here. And if she prevented him from doing the work he loved, he’d end up feeling as frustrated as she. As far as relationships went, this was a recipe for disaster.
• • •
They entered the chic gallery where, tonight, there was an opening of a new exhibition. “I can finally show you off to everyone,” Jace said, his voice strangely gruff as he helped her off with her coat, slid his eyes over her silky black dress. “I’ve been telling everyone about you, about how beautiful you are, how intelligent. They’re dying to meet you.”