Snowbound Heart (19 page)

It was Marvin Hobbs who spoke when she lifted the receiver. He apologized for disturbing her at that time of day. Though he knew it was an imposition, he would appreciate a few minutes of her time. There was a matter of importance he would like to discuss with her, alone, if she did not mind.

The request, and the blunt way that it was phrased, was so disconcerting that Clare found herself agreeing before she had time to think. The instant she put down the phone, she regretted it. She could not imagine what the producer would have to talk to her about; still less could she guess why he wanted to see her alone.

She was not given much time to consider the matter. Before she could take her robe from the closet and wrap it around her, he was knocking at the door.

Instinctively Clare sent a glance toward the connecting door into Logan’s room. It was tightly closed. She thought he was in, but she could not be sure. Taking a deep breath, she slipped into her robe, wrapped the belt around her, and limped to answer the knock.

“I’m sorry,” Marvin Hobbs said. “I know this is a bad time, but Janine is bathing and dressing for dinner just now, and it may be the only time I can talk to you without interference.”

“It’s all right,” Clare said, sweeping her hair back with one hand as she gestured toward a chair. “Won’t you sit down?”

The producer put a hand under her elbow to help her to an armchair, then took a seat across from her. “It’s like this, Clare. I’ve never claimed to be the most intelligent man around, but I’m smart enough to know when I’m being given a snow job — if you will excuse the pun. My wife has been sweeter to me in the last three days than in the past three years, and while I won’t deny it’s been a nice change, it makes me wonder. The first question that comes to mind is, what does she want? This afternoon I found out.”

“I don’t see how that concerns me, Mr. Hobbs,” Clare said.

“If you will bear with me, I will attempt to make it clear. You know that I flew up here expecting to find my wife with Logan, don’t you?”

Clare, staring down at her hands in her lap, gave a reluctant assent.

“Janine swears to me there was nothing between the two of them except friendship, that the fact she happened to fly off in the same direction he did when the going got rough was strictly a coincidence. I don’t mean to pry; still, I can’t help wondering if Logan has given you an explanation of their relationship.”

“He did mention it, yes.”

“May I ask your opinion of what he told you?”

“My opinion? Why?”

“You do have a stake in this as Logan’s fiancee. I don’t believe you are the kind of girl who would settle for a marriage based on lies.”

Clare looked at Janine’s husband, aware of the pain threading his tone. He was not enjoying his role as inquisitor, nor the necessity of speaking of his wife. There was only one answer to his question. She gave it “Logan told me essentially the same thing as your wife told you.”

“And you believe it?”

“I am satisfied that Logan is not in love with Janine and never had any intention of meeting her here, if that is what you mean.” As she spoke, Clare realized that in spite of Janine’s insinuations, she believed exactly what she had said. If she could dismiss all idea of an affair between Logan and Janine, couldn’t she also rid herself of the suspicion that he had tried to use the other woman to get what he wanted, just as he was using her?

“I noticed you say nothing about what Janine might have felt for Logan.”

Clare flicked him a brief glance. Logan had mentioned the man’s intuition about people once. It had not been an idle observation. “I can’t answer for her, of course.”

“You think I should have some idea of my wife’s feelings?” he suggested in recognition of her carefully neutral tone. “I think I do, Clare, I think I do, and that is what troubles me.” He got to his feet and moved to the window. Standing with his back to the room, he leaned with both hands on the sill.

Clare felt a little sick. She gripped, her hands tightly together. “I don’t understand.”

“I told you I found out what Janine wants; she wants me to do this picture for Logan.”

“I … So do I, Mr.Hobbs.”

“Yes. You want it because that’s what Logan wants. Isn’t that it? You may admire the concept, but you have no personal ax to grind.”

“I suppose so.”

“Now, Janine, just a few days ago, was dead set against it. That was along about the time she came to Aspen. A week before, in L.A., she thought it was the greatest thing since Gone with the Wind. Don’t misunderstand me. I love my wife, but I am not blind to her faults. I’m used to the way her mind works. I ask myself why she has been blowing hot and cold, and the reason I keep coming up with is you.”

“Me?” The word was jerked from Clare by her surprise. She had thought that nothing short of clairvoyance could connect her to Janine’s change of heart. It appeared she was wrong.

He swung around, crossing his arms over his chest. “Yes, you, Clare, and what Logan feels for you.”

“What do you mean?” There was wariness in the look she gave him.

“First Janine likes the screenplay of Logan’s, then he leaves to come up here. She follows him, or so it looks to me, finds out about you, and immediately she hates the script, though she still wants to spend as much time as possible in the company of the man who wrote it. Then you have an accident caused by another skier. I happen to know Janine was on the slopes alone that morning, though when she came in she never said a word about what happened, just looked white and scared. Two days later she has a talk with you, and from that time on she acts like it’s our second honeymoon. About the time I start to enjoy it, she begins to tell me how she has changed her mind again. She wants me to get serious about this project of Logan’s. What am I supposed to make of it all?”

“What do you make of it, Mr. Hobbs?”

“I think,” he said slowly, “that Janine wanted Logan, but he wouldn’t play, because of his attachment to you, I think when she pushed him too far, he came up here to get away, and also to meet you. Janine didn’t like the situation she found when she got here, and when she couldn’t change it to suit herself, she let her temper run away with her common sense. You were quick enough, and smart enough, to turn that to advantage, so Janine is now on your side.”

“I am sure,” Clare said slowly, “that you don’t expect me to confirm any part of that.”

“No, but I feel sure you would not have hesitated to deny it if there wasn’t more than a little truth in it.”

Clare let her gaze move to the door between her room and Logan’s. She realized that by her silence she stood condemned. She had thought her scheme would help Logan; instead, it had put an end to the small chance that had been left. She lifted her chin. “I think you should know that Logan had nothing to do with … with Janine’s recent change of heart. I don’t believe he is even aware of it.”

“I expected as much.”

“I would rather he didn’t find out, but I suppose that’s too much to ask.”

“No, I don’t think so.” Marvin Hobbs cleared his throat, almost as if he were affected by the tears rising in her eyes. “You must love Logan very much.”

Clare, her gray gaze held by his look of brooding concern, could only tell the truth. “Yes … yes, I do. I … May I ask what you mean to do now?”

“What I should have done in the first place, consider this script of Logan’s on its own merits. I doubt it will take me long to decide to do what I should have done weeks ago if it hadn’t been for my own stubborn jealousy.”

“You mean…”

“Exactly. I’m going to put the screenplay into production.”

“Oh, Mr. Hobbs,” Clare cried, coming to her feet.

“Careful there,” he said, stepping forward to catch her arm as she swayed. “You don’t want to put yourself out of commission before dinner. I want you and Logan to have dinner with us tonight. If you and he will come to my suite for a drink a little ahead of time, we can discuss it. I just happen to have a contract with me, brought along just in case. The terms are reasonable, since I don’t expect Logan to accept anything less. We can sign it on the spot.”

“I … don’t know what to say,” Clare said. “You are a generous man.”

“Logan may not think so.”

“That isn’t what I meant.”

“I know,” Marvin Hobbs said, looking away as he moved toward the door. “You’ve been pretty generous yourself, all things considered. Logan is a lucky man. He’s getting a fine girl. I hope he realizes it.”

The door closed behind him. Clare stood staring at the wood-grain panel, trying to decide if the producer’s words had more than their surface meaning. Could he suspect? Had Janine mentioned her suspicions to him? Surely not, or he would have said something. He had shown no reticence on anything else. Oh, but what did it matter so long as he produced Logan’s screenplay?

Logan had won. She had won. After tonight, the purpose of this week with the producer and his wife would be finished. No doubt the party would break up. Janine and Marvin would go back to California. Logan, too, more than likely. She would spend a few days with Beverly, letting her ankle mend, and then back to Louisiana. Back to … whatever. Finally, once and for all, it would be over.

It would be over. The interlude would be finished. She would no longer be the fiancee of Logan Longcross. She would go through the days without seeing him, without speaking to him. His picture in magazines and newspapers would haunt her. She would torture herself watching his flickering image on the movie screen, knowing full well that though be seemed near, he was really thousands of miles away.

A few hours, that was all that was left. A few hours, but already she could feel the pain of the parting beginning inside her. Not the least of it was knowing she herself had cut short the days they would have together.

Turning sharply from the door, Clare picked up a tissue from the dresser and began to repair the damage to her makeup caused by the tracks of her tears.

For dinner Clare wore the same long skirt and blouse of dusty rose that she had worn on that first night at the hotel. Removing the elastic bandage from her ankle, she buckled on a pair of high-heeled sandals. There was still some soreness in her foot, but she felt able to use it for short distances, even if she wasn’t quite ready to dance or run. Her hair, freshly washed, she left in a shining mass on her shoulders. To put it up might give her a more sophisticated look, but that was not how she felt this evening. She felt vulnerable, out of her element, and much in need of some form of protective screen.

Logan, when he tapped on the connecting door and stepped into the room, had also returned to formal wear. After days of wearing nothing but casual clothing, he seemed like a stranger. It may have been a trick of the light, but she thought there was something withdrawn about his features as he turned to her.

“I see Janine called you,” he said, nodding at her long dress. “I wanted to check and be sure you knew we were dining with her and Marvin, and tell you they are expecting us for a drink first.”

“Yes, I know,” Clare answered.

The temptation to ask if he knew Marvin Hobbs meant to bring to dinner a contract for the production of the screenplay was strong. However, there was always the possibility that he might resent her knowing before he did. In addition, there was no guarantee that Hobbs would not change his mind again before she and Logan could get downstairs.

“We don’t have to go if you don’t feel up to it,” Logan said.

“I’m fine, really I am.”

“Then why are you so pale? Did Marvin say something to upset you?”

“What?”

“I know he was here. I started to come in earlier to ask you about dinner, but I heard voices, one of them male. It didn’t take much in the way of detective work to find out it was Marvin.”

“You spied on me?” Clare asked.

“I wanted to know who it was,” he said with disarming simplicity. “Don’t change the subject. What did Marvin want?”

“If you must know, it seems Janine has had a change of heart and is now trying to get back into her husband’s good graces. She told him there had never been anything between the two of you, and he was of two minds whether to believe her. He wanted to know what I thought.”

“And what did you tell him?” There was the sound of tension in that quick question, despite the easy way Logan stood waiting for her answer.

“I told him you had said much the same thing, and that I trusted you, therefore I believed you.”

“Was it the truth?”

Clare smiled, lifting one brow. “I think it must be. You had no reason to lie. At the time, you wanted nothing from me.”

“Are you sure?” he queried.

“No, but what of it, so long as Marvin Hobbs thinks I am? If you expected to have some use for me, then you also offered something of yourself in return, so we are even.”

For an instant Clare thought she saw a shadow of disappointment move across his face, and then he spoke. “So we are,” he murmured. “A good way to leave it for now.”

Had she imagined those last words? The promise they seemed to hold was tantalizing. As Clare, leaning on Logan’s arm, made her way slowly to the Hobbses’ rooms, she slanted a quick glance at him. The light overhead in the elevator alcove shone on his hair with the gleam of old gold coins and cast his features in bronze. It made him look remote, unfeeling, like an ancient idol seen from afar. The arm under her fingers had the hard support of a steel beam, and was just as impersonal. No, she must have been mistaken. Never by word or deed had Logan promised her anything, not ever.

Janine was slender and chic in a black jersey designer gown with draped lines and practically nonexistent shoulder straps. It was not a good color choice for her. It failed to make the most of her tan complexion and threw into relief the twin spots of color that burned in her cheeks.

“Come in,” she cried as she opened the door to them. “I was about to send out a search party. Logan, how handsome you look, and you are pretty too, Clare, in that darling little dress. I do love it on you.”

“Thank you,” Clare said, her gray eyes clear. “It is one of my favorites.”