If Ever I Loved You (4 page)

She took a deep breath and forced herself to continue.
"The reception was held at the Van Housen mansion where a huge tent was
set up on the spacious grounds and a catered dinner was served. It
seemed to go on forever, but finally Peter and I managed to break away
and change our clothes. By then most of the guests had left and we were
coming down the winding stairway with our families and attendants on
our way to the car and freedom at last when the doorbell rang and a man
insisted on seeing Peter."

"He turned out to be a special messenger with a large
brown manila envelope for Peter. He was very upset, said the envelope
was to have been delivered before noon, but he'd been involved in a
three-car pileup on one of the bridges and was delayed more than three
hours. The messenger stressed that he'd been told the parcel was
extremely important, so Peter excused us and led me into the den where
we could have some privacy while he examined the contents."

Again Gina twisted uncomfortably in her chair, fighting
the memories that threatened to overpower her.

The examination of the contents of the parcel hadn't been
the only thing for which Peter wanted privacy. As soon as the door had
closed behind them he had taken her in his arms and his mouth had
descended on hers, warm and eager and hungry. It was the first time
they'd been alone together all day and she'd responded with an
eagerness and a hunger that matched his.

For a long moment they were lost in the heat of their
all-consuming desire, but then Peter pulled his lips from hers and
groaned, "Why did I ever agree to drive all the way to Carmel to start
our honeymoon? I don't think I can wait three more hours to make love
to you."

His mouth once more found hers and his hands moved to her
hips and arched her soft, pliant body into the hardness of his own.
She'd shivered with the sensations of pleasure that were building in
her, pleasure almost too intense to be borne. Her arms tightened around
his neck as she strained to press herself even closer and she forgot
everything but her burning need to be one with him.

A sharp rap on the door jolted them out of their steamy
preoccupation and Peter muttered an oath as they pulled apart, somewhat
disoriented. A voice filled with laughter had shouted, "Hey you two,
don't start something it's going to take too long to finish. Everyone's
waiting to send you off…"

A hand on Gina's arm and a gentle shake brought her back
to the present. "Honey," said Twyla in a worried tone, "if this is
going to be too painful—"

Gina breathed deeply and shook her head. "No, I'm all
right. Sorry, I was just—just trying to put my thoughts in
order," she lied.

"Peter closed the door to the den and locked it," she continued, "then walked over to the desk while I stood
back."

"I didn't immediately notice his startled reaction as he
removed the contents of the envelope. When I finally became aware of
the prolonged silence I looked up to see him standing at the desk in a
stiff, unnatural stance with his back to me."

Gina felt hot and knew that her skin had a fine sheen of
perspiration, but her hands were cold as she clasped them together in
her lap. "The oddest sense of foreboding came over me at that moment
and I shivered.
Someone walked over my grave
, I
thought, then giggled nervously at the inappropriateness of the saying
that was one of my grandmother's favorite expressions. This was my
wedding day, the happiest day of my life."

"I forced myself to smile and started across the room
toward Peter, curious about what could be in the slim envelope that was
important enough to be sent by special messenger."

Suddenly the effort to sit still was more than Gina could
bear and she stood up and began pacing around the room, her hands still
clasped in front of her, her voice remaining clear and steady.

"I stood beside him and he turned and looked down at me.
What I saw in his face made me gasp and step back, bewildered. The
gentle, adoring lover was gone and in his place was a man of ice. His
complexion was white, totally drained of color and his blue eyes were
lifeless with shock. I—I asked him what was the matter and
then my gaze shifted to his hands. The brown envelope had dropped to
the desk and he was holding a large shiny piece of black and white
paper, a photograph."

Gina stopped her pacing and stood still, trying to control
the trembling that had overtaken her. She wondered if she could
continue, if she should continue. It was tearing her apart, and for
what purpose? Twyla couldn't help, nobody could. Wasn't it better not
to delve into the past?

"Gina?" Twyla's soft question reached her and Gina knew
she would go on, would finish the story she'd started. Twyla was a
caring, compassionate lady and Gina was sure she'd need all the help
she could get in the days to come. She had no doubt that what had
happened tonight was a beginning, not an ending.

She straightened her shoulders and breathed a silent
prayer for strength. "Peter didn't speak or move," she continued, "And
those cold dead eyes seemed to bore into my very soul. My mouth felt
dry and I ran the tip of my tongue over my lips as I begged him to tell
me what was the matter."

"The photograph fluttered to the desk and a look of rage
replaced the shock as he turned to fully face me. For a minute I was
afraid he'd hit me, but then when he spoke I almost wished he had."

She resumed her pacing. "His voice was low but harsh,
raspy, almost painful as he said, 'So my parents and Veronica were
right, all you wanted from me was money and prestige. You lying,
cheating little—!' The name he called me was gross, shocking,
and I gasped as his powerful hands clamped my shoulders in a crushing
grip. I can still hear him say, 'I could kill you, right here, this
instant, with my bare hands'!"

"He shook me until I was sure my neck would snap and I
screamed with terror. The noise seemed to jar him into a semblance of
reality and he released me so quickly that I lost my balance and fell
to the floor. I lay there stunned, trembling with fear, as he strode
across the room and unlocked the door, then disappeared down the hall."

Gina shivered and pulled her robe closer around her as she
wondered why she seemed to be cold one minute and too warm the next.
She hugged her arms across her chest as she continued to roam around
the room.

"After that," she said, "everything seemed to be happening
at once. My parents were bending over me, helping me to my feet,
demanding to know what happened, while the rest of the wedding party
apparently followed after Peter."

"I couldn't explain what happened because I didn't know,
and it was several minutes before I remembered the photograph. The
picture! It had to be something in the picture that turned Peter into a
madman!"

"It lay where it had fallen on the desk and I picked it up
and looked at it, then blinked and looked again. It was an eight-by-ten
glossy black and white portrait of Mel Calicutt and me. It was cropped
at my waist and Mel's chest and arms were bare, and the only garment I
was wearing was an unfastened black bra with straps that were sliding
off my shoulders. We were in what appeared to be a passionately erotic
embrace!"

Gina stood in front of the wide window and parted the
sheer draperies slightly so she could look out. She'd never been this
high up in a building before, and even in the darkness the view was
astounding. To the south were lights extending all the way down the
peninsula, but to the west the illumination blended into darkness as it
mingled with the vastness of the ocean.

From behind her Twyla's husky voice broke the silence.
"Well, was it?"

"Was it what?" Gina asked without turning.

"Was it a passionate embrace someone caught you in with
Mel Calicutt, or was the picture faked?"

Gina leaned her forehead against the cool glass. "It was
neither, and don't ever let anyone tell you that photos don't lie. At
first I was stunned. There had never been anything sexual between Mel
and me. We'd had a friendly easy relationship and shared a few
goodnight kisses but that was all. I hadn't gone out with him since I'd
met Peter."

She straightened then and turned to look at Twyla. "It was several minutes before I finally remembered when
that picture must have been taken. Mel and I were in the same
photography class, that's where we met. One day about a week before the
wedding our teacher announced that he had made arrangements for us to
go by bus to an estate in Marin County where we would be allowed to
photograph the inside of the fabulous home. He told us to bring our
bathing suits because we would be allowed to swim in the indoor pool.
It was January and none of us had been to the beach in months so we
were all delighted with the extra bonus."

Gina walked over and sat back down in the chair beside
Twyla. "It was a fabulous day. Some of the art treasures in that home
were priceless and Mel and I paired off and worked together
photographing them. About mid-afternoon we were given permission to
swim, and I changed into the new black bikini I'd bought for my
trousseau. It was really quite modest for a bikini, the top was a bra
style with straps and the bottom was a slip-on pantie that pulled up
nearly to my waist. Mel appeared in brief trunks, and after we'd been
in the pool for a while he suggested we have a glass of the punch that
was being served."

She frowned as she continued. "I remember now that he led
me around behind a huge tropical plant that seemed to be growing right
out of the tiles and we sat on our towels on the floor. Mel began
acting strange, telling me how desirable I looked, touching my hand,
running his fingers up my arm. I didn't want to make a scene so I tried
to ignore it, but suddenly he grabbed me and kissed me, passionately. I
was so surprised that for a moment I just leaned against him as his
hands roamed, but I quickly came to my senses and started to fight. He
wouldn't let me go. Then, as suddenly as it started it was over. He
released me and apologized, but I didn't appreciate being mauled and
told him so. I got dressed and didn't speak to him again. If he came to
the wedding I didn't see him. When I saw the picture I realized someone
must have photographed us in that impromptu embrace. My bikini top had
gotten disheveled during the scuffle and the look on my face which was
really surprise photographed as wanton passion."

Twyla's voice was questioning as she spoke. "But surely
you could have explained that to Peter."

Gina shrugged. "You'd think so, wouldn't you?
Unfortunately there was also a note enclosed with the picture. It was
typewritten and unsigned and said, 'Thought you should know what your
sweet, virginal bride-to-be is doing when you're not around'."

"That's rotten!" exploded Twyla.

Gina didn't comment, but once more picked up her story. "I
didn't see Peter again for two days when my dad and some of his army
buddies finally found him passed out in a sleazy bar. When we got him
sobered up I tried to explain about the incident leading up to the
taking of the picture. He wasn't having any of it. He kept insisting
that his parents and Veronica were right all along, that I saw a chance
to marry into wealth and social position and took advantage of his
strong physical attraction for me to maneuver him into proposing by
playing the pure virgin who couldn't let him make love to me until we
were married."

Unable to sit still Gina stood and poured herself another
cup of coffee, then left it sitting on the tray, forgotten. "I was so
incredibly naive and stupid in those days. I knew that Peter was well
aware that there were always people anxious to take advantage of the
very wealthy. He'd told me once that both of his brothers had unhappy
love affairs with women who were only after their money and social
position before they finally married women who were as wealthy as they,
but I still didn't see the trap. I was so sure that if he would just go
with me to talk to Mel everything would be all right. That Mel would
back up my story and Peter would know that I was innocent as I'd told
him I was."

"It didn't turn out that way, I gather?" muttered Twyla.

"You'd better believe it didn't!" Gina's voice was filled
with self-derision. "I walked right into it, just the way I was set up
to. Peter finally agreed to talk to Mel, and I called and made
arrangements to meet him at his apartment."

"We showed him the picture and the note. He looked at
them, then at me, and I can quote his exact words. He said, 'Sorry,
sweetheart, I had no idea we were being observed on that secluded
stretch of beach. We should have been more careful, but surely Peter
knows we've been—uh—going together'."

Twyla sat straight and gripped the arms of her chair.
"That bastard!" she hissed.

"Agreed," said Gina. "Peter hit him and knocked him across
the room, then tore up the picture and slammed out of the apartment
without even a glance at me. I never saw him again until tonight."

"Tonight!" Twyla exclaimed. "You saw Peter Van Housen
tonight?"

Gina looked at her, puzzled. "Of course, you were there,
you saw the state of collapse I was in…"

She stopped as she realized that in all the confusion
Twyla probably hadn't been introduced to Peter.

"You mean," Twyla demanded, "that the man who was holding
you as though he'd never let you go was your ex-husband? I've met Peter
Van Housen a time or two, but I'm afraid I wasn't paying any attention
to him tonight. I was too concerned about you."

Gina caught her breath and hissed, "Don't be such a
romantic, Twyla. He wasn't holding me, he was merely propping me up so
I wouldn't faint at his feet."

"That's not the way it looked to me, or to Stewart
either." Her eyes narrowed. "Does Stewart know you were married to
Peter Van Housen?"