Just Deserts (4 page)

“That’s okay,” she said, grinning. “I’ll let you keep this one pleasure in life.”

He glanced over at her, saw her beauty against the backdrop of the view outside the window and thought there couldn’t be any pleasure greater than loving her. “Have you decided what we’re going to do for dinner?”

She left the window to sit on his bed. “The restaurant downstairs looks nice. Why don’t we eat there tonight?”

“That’s fine with me. I’m going to step into the bathroom to put on my swim trunks and will be back out in a second.”

“All right.”

And then he disappeared, putting a closed door between him and temptation.

“So, what were you going to ask me about earlier on the elevator?”

Danielle glanced over at Tristan. They were lying side by side on loungers by the pool. It was a beautiful July day and a bright sun was in the sky. She thought the swim trunks Tristan wore looked sexy on him. She’d always thought he had a nice body.

Earlier, when she’d gotten up to get drinks for them at the poolside bar, she’d noticed a woman trying to catch his eye. Danielle knew enough about women to know that although the woman had a nice body, she was probably in her fifties. She was definitely a cougar. And Danielle had no intention of letting her get her claws into Tristan. At first the thought of her being so overprotective gave her pause. Hadn’t she felt the same way about Karin Stokes? But then she realized Tristan was such a nice guy, someone had to look out for him. There were too many unscrupulous women out there, like the cougar in the lounger on the other side of the pool who was still trying to get his eye. Why didn’t the woman just give up?

“Um, I was just wondering,” she said, deciding to respond since he had inquired, “why you aren’t seriously dating anybody.”

He released her gaze to look out over the pool. “I don’t have the time.”

She grinned. “I thought that was one of the things in life that a man typically made time for. Paul usually did.”

Tristan chuckled. “Yeah, he did, didn’t he?”

Both of them knew her brother had been a ladies’ man. She and Tristan hadn’t been the only ones grieving over his death. A lot of the single ladies in Port St. Lucie had been grieving as well. “So, Tris, what’s the real deal?”

Tristan didn’t say anything at first, deciding to think about what response he would give Danielle. He could come right out and say he wasn’t dating anyone because she was the one and only woman for him. But he reconsidered. Given what she was going through right now and had gone through over the past two months, hearing that would be the last thing she needed. He made his head rule his heart and said, “I’ve been too busy.”

“And I guess I haven’t been helping matters.”

He frowned. “I thought we weren’t going there, Dani. Don’t bring
him
on this trip,” he said rather harshly and then regretted it.

For once he wanted her to relax and have a good time without thinking of what had been going on in her life for the past couple of months. He knew for her it would be hard to do, but he wanted her to try.

“Sorry.”

“You’re forgiven.”

A few silent moments passed and then she said, “Did I tell you I got a call from Jeri?”

His frown deepened. Jeri had been her agent. More than once the woman had tried luring Danielle back into the world of glitz and glamour. “No, you didn’t. What did she want?” he asked, trying to keep the irritation he felt out of his voice.

“A major designer is putting a project together for the holidays and wants me included.”

Alarm rammed through his nervous system. He couldn’t help wondering if this thing with Marc would be what sent her back to the world she’d left behind five years ago. “What did you tell her?”

“I told her there was no way I could participate. I have a full-time job at A&T.”

He appreciated her loyalty to the company and was grateful she wasn’t thinking about leaving A&T. To be open-minded and fair, he said, “You know, if you really want to do it, we could arrange things for you to take some time off. It might be a good opportunity for you.”

She shifted to her side on the lounger to face him. “Thanks but no thanks. I told you when I came back that I didn’t want that type of life anymore. I was burned out, and even if Paul had lived I think eventually I would have returned home.”

This was the first he’d heard that. “I thought you enjoyed your career as a model.”

“I did at first, but then the long hours, living out of my luggage and barely eating to stay thin ran its course. I had begun to get homesick and it took everything I had to get up each day and pose in front of the cameras.”

“Did Paul know how you felt?”

“No, I never told him. I came close to doing so one night when he called, but before I got the chance he told me about his orders to go to Iraq. Now I’m glad I never told him. You know Paul. He would have left worrying about me.”

Tristan didn’t want to tell her that Paul had worried about her, anyway. That was one of the reasons he’d asked Tristan to look after her if anything was to happen to him. Paul had also been proud of her. Tristan would never forget the time Dani made the cover of the
Sports Illustrated
swimsuit edition. Paul had purchased all the magazines off the rack at one particular store to give copies to their customers.

“Are you really happy working at A&T, Dani?”

“Yes, that’s the only part of my life I’m enjoying right now. I feel close to Paul there. The business was his dream and when you told me he left his share of the business to me, I was deeply touched. I know how hard the two of you worked to make the company a success. I like handling new accounts and watching sales increase, and making sure we’re meeting those companies’ needs and doing whatever we can to better serve them.”

Tristan nodded. She was smart and did an excellent job; she’d become a real asset to the company. But then, he’d figured she would. He’d had no qualms about her taking over for Paul.

He saw her smother a yawn and knew she was probably tired. It had been a long flight, they were now in Pacific time but their bodies were still thinking Florida time.

“Do you want to take a nap before dinner?”

She smiled. “I think I will. Do we need to make reservations for dinner?”

“Yes. I’ll take care of it.”

“Thanks.”

He watched as she stood and covered her bikini with the cover-up. “What time do you want me ready and dressed for dinner?”

“Um, how about around six?”

“That’ll work.”

He stood, as well, and together they began walking toward the door that led to a bank of elevators. When he placed his hand at the small of her back, he actually felt heat there. And he couldn’t help but look forward to dinner with her later.

O
nce Danielle had changed out of her bathing suit and slipped on comfortable lounge wear, she contacted Alex and Renée.

Alex answered, seemingly more alert than she had been the last time they’d spoken. The same thing with Renée. When both women said they were alone and their men hadn’t come in from work, Danielle appreciated the difference in time zones.

“Has either of you discovered anything else?” she asked, dropping into the love seat in her room.

“Before we answer that, we want to know how things are going in San Francisco. How is Tristan?”

Danielle rolled her eyes, knowing why they were asking. “That’s not the issue here, ladies.”

“We think it is, Danielle,” she heard Renée say. “We’re worried about you. We care.”

She couldn’t help but be touched. Over the past two months, they had endured a lot together, had felt the same pain, had been cut by the same deceit. Only difference from her was that they had moved on and had lives.

But she mustn’t allow herself to dwell on that right now. The most important issue, the most pressing issue was the fact that there was another person out there somewhere, another of Marc Foster’s victims. That was what she had to focus on.

“I’m fine, really. You don’t have to worry about me. I’m tough. I can hang. Tristan is a good friend. He’s always been there for me and I appreciate him.”

When neither women said anything, especially Alex, who was usually upbeat, Danielle got a funny feeling in the pit of her stomach. What were they trying to prepare her for? “You
have
found out something,” she said slowly, almost certain of it. “What is it?”

When neither said anything for a moment, her throat tightened, a sign of anxiety creeping in. “Hey, don’t hold back on me now.”

It was Renée who finally spoke. “We don’t want to ruin your vacation with Tristan.”

“You won’t. I feel relaxed.”

“What we’ll tell you won’t let you relax, Danielle. It’s going to make you mad. It made
us
mad.”

Her head began spinning, wondering what they knew. “Let me be the judge of that. I’m a big girl. Finding out that Marc was sterile came as a big blow. I’m thirty. Your biological clock hasn’t started ticking. Mine has. I hear it every day.”

“But you have Tristan,” Alex said.

Danielle felt her heart stir a little. Yes, she had Tristan, but not in the way they thought. And she knew it would be a waste of time trying to convince them of it yet again. She and Tristan were best friends, nothing more.

Still, she couldn’t help but think of a little girl with Tristan’s dimpled smile. She suddenly closed her eyes, as if to blink away the image, and felt annoyed with herself. How could she think such a thing? Then again, she knew Tristan was a giver. He would give her a baby if she asked him….

She felt the pulse beat erratically in her throat. No, she couldn’t do that. Tristan had given her too much of himself already. She couldn’t—she wouldn’t—ask him for more. It wouldn’t be fair.

“Yes, I have Tristan,” she said, although she knew their meaning of that was different from hers. “Now tell me what the two of you have found out.”

“You tell her, Renée,” Alex said.

“Okay, but Chris won’t like me telling you, although I think he’ll actually be relieved, since he wouldn’t know how to tell you himself. He had a hard time telling me, and I’m sure Hunter had a hard time telling Alex.”

Danielle felt like pulling her hair out. “Tell me what?”

“Just what Chris found at Marc’s apartment and why he thinks there’s another woman, a fourth woman.”

Danielle’s throat tightened again. “What did he find?”

Renée hesitated a moment before continuing. “The apartment was spacious and it had four bedrooms. A bedroom for each of us.”

Danielle felt her skin crawl and tried to subdue the feeling. “What do you mean?”

“What she means is this,” Alex said, taking up the story. “We each had our own room and they were furnished with each of us in mind. Decorated in our favorite colors and on the dressers were our favorite perfume, bath oil and even a listing of our favorite foods and hobbies. In the closets were items of our clothing he had obviously collected along the way. And in the bathroom were bathrobes with each of our names embroidered on them. Each room, according to what Chris told Hunter, was a shrine to each of us.”

Danielle didn’t say anything, mainly because she didn’t know what to say. To be quite honest, she doubted she could find her voice to speak, considering how taken aback she felt by what Alex and Renée had just shared. She couldn’t help but wonder how a man could marry three women, three different types of women, and then establish rooms under one roof for all of them. What kind of mentality would do such a thing? A question suddenly formed in her mind.

“What about the fourth room? The one belonging to the other woman?” she heard herself asking.

“It wasn’t complete. There were several things missing in hers that we had in ours,” Renée said. “That’s why Chris thinks he hadn’t married her yet. Your room, Danielle, according to Chris, was more furnished than mine, and mine had more stuff in it than Alex’s. It seemed he was still collecting items for the fourth woman. No items of clothing, no personal effects. He had collected a few menus from restaurants the two of them must have gone to together, but Chris won’t tell me what those places are or where they are.”

Danielle heard what Renée was saying. And she knew that now, more so than ever, she needed to find the woman to make sure she wasn’t wondering why Marc hadn’t yet come back to her.

Danielle inhaled deeply. “Okay. I hope Chris shares more with me and Tristan when we meet with him in a few days.”

“We’re looking forward to your visit,” Renée said in an excited voice. “And no matter what we’ve shared with you, Danielle, you have to get beyond it like we’ve gotten beyond it. You have to believe there is life beyond Marc.”

“I do.” She felt the need to say it, although she knew that she hadn’t made an effort to pursue that life.

“Then act like it. We can understand you wanting to bring closure to everything, but we don’t want you to get so obsessed that you forget something important.”

“What?”

“Marc is dead. He can’t hurt us anymore. But you, Alex and I, as well as Mystery Woman Number Four, are alive. And it’s time for you, Danielle, to start living.”

It’s time for you to start living….

With a deep inhalation of breath she forced down the anxiety she felt. Alex and Renée were right. She needed to start living, but knew she wouldn’t be able to until she brought closure to her life with Marc. She wished there was another way, but she knew there wasn’t.

She moved away from the window where she’d been standing since ending her phone call with Alex and Renée ten minutes ago. A part of her wanted to lie down and rest, but she couldn’t do that, either.

She wanted to talk to Tristan.

But how could she when she couldn’t let him know she had spoken with Alex and Renée? He would see that as letting this thing with Marc intrude on time when she should be relaxing. He would be upset.

Still, she wanted to see him. He was her best friend and even if she couldn’t let him know that something was bothering her, just being around him would calm her troubled mind.

Leaving her bedroom, she crossed the sitting room and saw his bedroom door was slightly ajar. She was about to knock when she noticed him stretched across the bed, asleep. That was when she remembered they had both left the pool area with the intention of returning to their rooms for a nap.

She started to turn around and then decided that since she felt the need to be close to him, she would lie down beside him. If he were to wake up and find her there, he would know something was bothering her but wouldn’t ask any questions. He would wait for her to tell him.

The same thing had happened one night after Paul had died. She had spent the night at Tristan’s place and had had a bad dream about Paul’s death. In her nightmare she’d seen the helicopter crash that had taken him from her.

She had awakened in tears and had somehow made it to Tristan’s room. He had been sound asleep and she had eased into bed beside him. He had eventually awakened and found her there. Instead of asking why she’d gotten into his bed, he had held her for the rest of the night.

The next morning she’d told him what had sent her scurrying to his room, and he’d told her then that he would always be there if she needed him. Well, she needed him now.

Slipping off her sandals, she slid into bed next to Tristan and suddenly felt a moment of peace and calm. Satisfied that he was near, she closed her eyes, and moments later she felt herself drifting off to sleep.

Something woke Tristan and he immediately knew what it was. Danielle’s scent. She had been using the same perfume for as long as he could remember, and now it was reaching out to him, teasing his nostrils.

He shifted in bed and his leg touched something. It was someone else’s leg. A smooth, feminine leg. A long leg. A very shapely leg. He opened his eyes and saw Dani sleeping beside him. He sucked in his breath. The very fact that she was here in bed with him made his entire body ache, but he willed his body to calm down and relax while wondering what had driven her out of her bedroom into his.

He decided not to wake her up to find out. This wasn’t the first time she’d sought out his bed when something had disturbed her sleep. He liked the fact that she knew she could come to him when things in her life weren’t going the way they should.

He gave a mental shrug, wondering exactly what that did for him. Well, for one thing, it made him feel needed, because she knew that he would always be there for her. It would always be that way between them, although deep down a part of him wanted more.

Her body shifted and as he continued to watch, she opened her eyes and looked up into his. He felt his gut tighten when she moistened her lips.

“I guess you’re wondering what I’m doing in here,” she said softly.

Her words, Danielle noted, had been met with silence. The other thing she noticed was the intensity of Tristan’s gaze. She felt her heartbeat speed up and wondered for a moment why that was. What was making her suddenly feel that she was the object of his desire? And why was her body responding to that very thought?

She frowned, finding such a thought confusing, as well as downright ridiculous. Alex and Renée’s false assumptions were getting to her, messing with her mind at a time when she needed to keep things together.

“So since you’re the one who brought it up, do you want to tell me why you’re in my bed?”

She briefly looked away, mainly because his dark eyes were unwavering and caused parts of her body to stir in a way they hadn’t stirred before. She reflected on that for a moment and then shrugged, thinking she was misinterpreting things.

This was Tristan. The man who had always been a part of her life. The man who had been her brother’s best friend. The man who was
her
best friend now. The last thing she wanted was to become some hopeless case. She’d be damned if she’d let her need for more in her life, her hunger for the same kind of love, affection and attention Alex and Renée were receiving, cause her to ruin her and Tristan’s very special friendship.

“Dani?”

Determined not to let a sudden case of deprived hormones wreck what they shared, she forced a smile. “Would you believe I had a bad dream?”

He smiled. “I’ll believe whatever you tell me. But remember, I can catch you in a lie even on my bad days.”

Yes, he could. Although she didn’t want to admit the truth to him, she knew she had to. She couldn’t hold inside the emotions tearing at her. So she pulled herself up in bed and looked over at him. It took all her willpower not to study the wide expanse of his chest somewhat exposed by the tight muscle shirt he’d changed into when he’d returned to his room. And she’d thought his abs had looked fine in the T-shirt he’d worn at the pool.

She gave herself a mental shake and brought her attention back to the matter at hand. She had told him that she would enjoy this time away and not think about Marc and what he had done. But she
had
thought of those things. Tristan wasn’t going to like it. Clearing her throat, she began. “I talked to Alex and Renée.”

His eyes didn’t blink when he asked, “When?”

“Um, about an hour or so ago.”

“And what they said made you come and climb into bed with me?”

She broke eye contact with him. “Yes. What they said bothered me.”

He didn’t say anything for a few seconds. Then he spoke in a calm voice. “I thought you were not going to let Marc stop you from having a good time.”

She met his gaze. “Oh, Tristan, honestly I tried. But I won’t be able to move on until there’s closure.” She paused and then said, “They told me about Marc’s apartment and what Chris found.”

When he didn’t appear the least interested in knowing what Chris had found, she could make only one assumption. “You knew, didn’t you?” she asked in a soft yet accusing voice. “Chris told you.”