C.J.'s Fate C.J.'s Fate C.J.'s Fate

by Kay Hooper

  “For heaven’s sake, dance with me,” Fate said rather hastily, as he glanced back over her shoulder. “They’re coming toward us en masse, and I can’t handle that. They can’t object to dancing, can they?”

  Of course not,” she murmured, smiling sweetly as she went into his arms. “What’s dancing, after all? Holding…touching…”

  “Oh, hell,” Fate muttered despairingly.

  SIX

  C.J.’S GIGGLE WAS cut short as a heavy hand fell on Fate’s shoulder, and Patrick cut in with awful politeness. Giving way as gracefully as possible under the circumstances, Fate retreated to the refreshment table and gave C.J. a pathetic look.

  Perfectly aware that he was mainly playing up to her enjoyment of the situation, she winked at him before Patrick swept her away, and had the satisfaction of seeing a glimpse of the little-boy mischief gleaming in his eyes.

  “Now she’s winking at the man,” Patrick said high above her head.

  C.J. tilted her head back in order to look up at her dancing partner, and couldn’t help but laugh. “Well, don’t sound so accusing,” she reproved lightly. “Aren’t I allowed to wink at a man? I’ve seen Kathy wink at you.”

  “That’s different,” Patrick told her stoutly.

  “Why?” she asked wryly.

  He ignored the question. “C.J.—are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

  She looked up into concerned brown eyes, and realized suddenly how lucky she was to have friends who cared. Quietly, she said, “He’s been good for me, Pat.”

  In the face of that statement, there wasn’t much that Patrick could say. But he tried. “You barely know him,” he objected.

  “If I remember correctly,” C.J. pointed out, “you proposed to Kathy on your first date—with all of us listening in. You didn’t know her very well. Were you wrong?”

  “In proposing? Of course not,” he denied immediately.

  “Well?”

  He smiled reluctantly. “Point taken. But, C.J., if you ever decide…”

  “I’ll give a shout,” she said gently, responding to the question he couldn’t seem to put into words.

  “Good.” He looked relieved. “As long as you know you can count on us.” Looking over the top of her head, he added, “Here comes Brian for his turn.”

  “A policeman’s third-degree,” C.J. muttered. “Damn.”

  Patrick looked a little startled to hear hear swear, but oddly tickled as well.

  And then it was Brian’s turn. Then Chris. Then John.

  C.J. spent a good fifteen minutes responding to questions ranging from Brian’s “What the hell are you up to, kid?” to Chris’s “Why can’t he keep his hands off you?” In between was John’s mild, “What’s this about parasites?”

  By the time Keith claimed her for a dance, C.J. was trying desperately to keep a straight face. And the pathetic, beaten-spaniel looks Fate kept giving her every time she passed him weren’t helping.

  Keith caught that look as they passed. “Quite an actor, your Fate,” he murmured. “Very convincing.”

  Hoping that he was referring only to Fate’s present actions, and not the loverlike attitude, C.J. murmured, “He really does want you all to like him.”

  “I know that,” Keith said calmly.

  C.J. smiled slightly. “I’m beginning to feel sorry for him.”

  “You didn’t feel sorry during dinner.”

  So he had overheard, C.J. thought. Or guessed. “I was…having a bit of revenge,” she said lightly. “Getting even with him for a personal difference of opinion.” Before Keith could probe more deeply into the subject, she decided that the best defence was a strong offense. “What do you think of him? You haven’t said much.”

  “No, I haven’t said much, have I?” Keith looked thoughtful for a moment, then looked down at the grown-up little sister in his arms. “But now…I say God bless him—and the horse he rode in on.”

  It was such a strange thing to say, especially coming from Keith, that C.J. could only stare at him for a moment. Then she started to laugh. “May I ask why?”

  He was smiling slightly, shrewd blue eyes studying her face. “Because he’s brought you out of yourself. I hardly recognized you when you walked into the dining room tonight—and it wasn’t because of the dress.”

  Choosing to take his words lightly, she mocked. “I’m all grown up now.”

  With unwonted gentleness, Keith said, “It’s obvious that he loves you very much. And you love him, don’t you?”

  C.J. took advantage of the sudden finale of the music to avoid answering him. But something closed down inside of her, something that was afraid of thinking about what he had said, something that was afraid of exploring a tender place.

  She looked up at him as he began to lead her across the large room to Fate. “The others follow your lead, Keith, and you know it. Can’t you get them to lighten up on Fate? I think he’s suffered enough.”

  If Keith realized that she hadn’t responded to his question, he didn’t let on. Lightly patting the hand resting on his arm, he said. “I’ll see what I can do.” He said nothing more until they reached Fate, when he presented the small hand to the other man. “Your lady, I believe,” he said gravely.

  “I hope so,” Fate said, his voice wary and dark eyes guarded as he accepted C.J.’s hand.

  C.J. stared after the retreating figure with a warm smile, and then snared a glass from a passing tray before looking up at Fate. “Enjoying the party?” she asked innocently.

  “Oh, sure, it’s great. Just great.”

  Sensing that he was really disturbed about something, C.J. sipped her drink as she studied his face. It was the solemn Indian-face, she noted, and more somber than usual. “What’s wrong?” she asked in an altered voice.

  Fate didn’t answer for a long moment, looking down at the small hand he still held. Then his eyes met hers, and she was surprised to see an unaccustomed frown there. Abruptly, he said, “You love him. I saw it in your eyes when you looked after him just now.”

  “Keith?” she asked, puzzled. “Of course I love him—I love them all.” A sudden, bewildering thought struck her mind just then, and she nearly choked on her drink. “You’re jealous,” she said disbelievingly.

  “Yes.”

  The flat, unequivocal response astonished her even more. While most men would have shown jealousy by brooding, possessive behavior, Fate quite openly and simply admitted to it.

  And C.J. didn’t know how to deal with that kind of honesty. She took a hasty sip of her drink and said, “You’re stepping out of character, you know.”

  He ignored that. “Should I be jealous, pixie?”

  C.J. looked fixedly at her glass. She wanted to tell him quite firmly that of course he had no reason to be jealous simply because he had no claim to her. But she couldn’t say that…somehow. She lifted her gaze at last to find him staring down at her with anxiety in his dark eyes, and that look crumbled yet another defense.

  “They’re my big brothers, married to my best friends,” she said quietly. “Nothing more than that.”

  “Should I be jealous?” he repeated softly.

  She was aware that he wasn’t acting now, aware that he was asking her to acknowledge a real relationship between them; she didn’t want to do that. She was afraid to do that. But she could ignore the appeal in his eyes no more than she could have stopped breathing.

  “No,” she whispered at last. “No, you shouldn’t.”

  He reached out to take her drink and set it on the table behind him, then removed the purse from beneath her arm and placed it there, too. “Dance with me.” The purple eyes were glowing.

  Silently, C.J. let him lead her out onto the floor, her arms slipping up around his neck naturally when he pulled her close to him and began moving slowly in time to the music. She rested her forehead against his chest, hiding her eyes from the ones that saw too much.

  At a fork in the road, she thought dimly, and no one to tell her which way to
go. And yet, she had already taken a step. Her mind flew back to Keith’s earlier observation and then tried to shy violently away. But that small mercy was denied her. What had closed down at Keith’s words, his question, opened up suddenly now, and the revelation hiding there was painful in its raw awakening.

  C.J. sighed raggedly without meaning to, and felt Fate’s hands—warm on her bare back—draw her even closer.

  “What is it?” he murmured into the curls tickling his chin.

  She shook her head slightly. “Nothing.” Everything! her mind added silently.

  When had it happened? She wasn’t sure. Even now…she wasn’t sure. When a stranger had unexpectedly and cheerfully begun playing the lover? When a mischievous little boy had bent her over his arm à la Valentino? When a quickwitted, intelligent man joined with her in the verbal sparring she had discovered a liking for? When a sensitive, caring man told her about the struggle to save another man’s life? When a man with desire in his eyes held and touched her?

  She thought back to the first night, and suddenly had her answer. She had dreamed of an Indian, beautiful in his stark masculinity, tender beyond anything she had ever hoped for. He had touched her with cherishing hands, kissed her with adoring lips, murmured words of love in many languages.

  Now, her fingers felt the softness of the raven-black hair at his nape, and she stroked it helplessly with unsteady movements. Yes. She had known then.

  She had known then that she loved him.

  C.J. heard the music stop, and she was aware of a panicky urge to run away and find somewhere small and dark and quiet. A place where she could think. A place where she could discover if this was reality…or insanity.

  “C.J.?” Gentle hands turned her face up as her arms fell away from him, and a soft, rough exclamation escaped his lips. “You’re white as a ghost! What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

  She looked up at him with blank eyes. And found that small, dark, quiet place—deep inside herself. Ruthlessly, she dragged the bewilderment, the nameless yearnings, the whirlpool of emotions into hiding and slammed the door on them. Until she could sort things out. Until she could think.

  Conjuring a brilliant smile, she said lightly, “I need a drink.” And she broke away from him resolutely to thread her way among the crowd of people to where Fate had left her drink.

  He didn’t catch up with her until she was lifting the glass for a second gulp. “C.J., what’s wrong?” He grasped her arm and turned her to face him. “Tell me.”

  “I’m a little tired and it’s hot in here.” Casually, she disentangled herself and then took his arm in a companionable grip. “Jan’s waving at us; let’s go see what she wants.”

  “C.J.—”

  “You have to make friends with the guys, you know. The girls will be nervous wrecks for the wedding if you don’t.”

  “The devil with them,” he muttered, moving toward her friends with obvious reluctance. “I want to know what happened between the beginning and the end of that dance.”

  Knowing that she barely had time to respond to his demand before they’d reach her friends, she said calmly, “Nothing happened, Fate. Nothing at all.”

  He had to be satisfied with that—for the time being, at least. But C.J. knew very well that he wouldn’t let the subject drop for long. She put it out of her mind, though, and hoped that she’d have an answer for him when the time came.

  As soon as they reached her friends, who were grouped together near one of the fireplaces, the male half of the magic circle showed a tentative opening for Fate. Keith, having shed his reserve, casually asked Fate’s opinion of a legal case involving a friend.

  C.J. listened silently to the ensuing discussion, vaguely amused to note the first stiff-legged advances of the other men, still wary but apparently determined to offer olive branches. She didn’t know what Keith had said to them, but it had obviously done the trick. The thaw had set in.

  As soon as the men seemed absorbed in their talk, she slipped unobtrusively away. She exchanged her empty glass for a full one and then stood near the refreshment table sipping her drink and watching the group with quiet eyes. Not thinking. She wasn’t ready for thinking yet.

  Jan detached herself and came toward C.J. a few moments later. When she reached her, she said with relief, “Now maybe they’ll stop acting like dogs protecting a bone.”

  “Thanks,” C.J. murmured dryly.

  “You’re welcome,” Jan responded politely, and then astonished C.J. by adding reflectively, “Not that I can blame them for being suspicious. That parasite-and-laser beam story was a bunch of bull.”

  C.J. choked and stared at her friend with watering eyes. “You mean you never—”

  “Believed the story?” Jan grinned at her, unholy amusement showing in her blue eyes. “Of course not. With all due respect to Fate’s convincing performance, he left out one very important explanation: why you agreed to keep meeting him on the sly. That’s just not like you, sweetie. Love may have made you blind; it wouldn’t make you a fool. You’d have demanded an explanation, and nothing less than the truth would have satisfied you.”

  “Do the others know?”

  “Sure. We’re your friends, remember? We know you.” Jan frowned suddenly. “Or thought we did, until this vacation.” She searched her friend’s expressionless face and averted eyes, then said a little dryly, “You didn’t meet him two months ago.”

  C.J. silently mouthed the word “no.”

  Jan placed one hand palm down on the table beside them as though to brace herself. “C.J.—when you pulled him out of the hall and into your room that first day…”

  “He was as much a stranger to me as he was to you,” C.J. finished quietly, meeting her friend’s eyes at last with a glimmer of a smile in her own.

  “My Lord,” Jan exclaimed dazedly. “The chance you took! Why, C.J.? To do something that reckless—” She broke off abruptly, shaking her head.

  With a little shrug, C.J. looked down at the glass in her hand. “It was stupid and reckless, I know. I decided to invent a romance to stop all the matchmaking. Only it backfired on me.”

  “You love him.”

  C.J. felt tears start to her eyes at the quiet statement, and nodded jerkily. “Funny isn’t it? After all the years of your matchmaking, I fell in love on my own.” There was a certain relief in admitting it out loud. Jan frowned at her as she looked up.

  “And you’re upset about it. The man obviously adores you. And you’re still going to fight it, aren’t you, C.J.?”

  C.J. wanted to avoid the question, but suddenly the fears and uncertainties burst loose from their locked room. “Ever since that man charged into my life, I’ve been coming apart,” she said in a low, hurried voice. “I don’t know me anymore. I look in the mirror and a stranger looks back at me. It’s all happening too fast, Jan. And…I’m afraid.”

  Surprisingly, Jan seemed to understand. “It hit you over the head like a ton of bricks,” she said. “That’s the way it happened to the rest of us. Someone once said that love doesn’t ask, it demands. But you can’t turn your back on it, sweetie.”

  C.J. shook her head suddenly. “It doesn’t matter. Fate doesn’t love me, and that’s that.”

  “He says he’s going to marry you.”

  “Part of the act,” C.J. said tiredly.

  Jan smiled oddly. “You’re not listening, C.J. He didn’t say that the two of you were going to get married. He said that he was going to marry you. There’s a wealth of determination in those words. Don’t listen to what a man says, listen to how he says it.”

  The advice made no sense to C.J. and she pushed it aside to ask a question which had been puzzling her. “If all of you knew that we were lying, why did you let the whole thing go on?”

  “Are you kidding?” Jan lifted an amused brow. “Fate woke you up with a vengeance; a blind man could have seen that with his cane. We weren’t about to throw a spanner into the works.”

  C.J. thought that over, her eyes fixe
d on the now animated discussion going on around the fireplace. “So you just stood around and let me make a fool of myself.”

  “No more of a fool than any other woman in love,” Jan said coolly, responding to the accusation. “Don’t be afraid of being foolish, sweetie; we all are at one time or another.”

  C.J. silently, wryly, agreed to that. She was, after all, being an utter fool. Fate did want to turn their charade into some sort of real relationship. Exactly what kind of relationship, C.J. wasn’t sure. A vacation fling, probably. A brief affair before they went their separate ways.

  And she was a fool because the reckless demon that had gotten her into this mess in the first place was now urging her insistently to take what she could get, even if that were only a brief affair.

  A week, she thought dimly. In another week, she’d be back in Boston, and all of this would seem like a dream. Or a nightmare. She had less than a week to make up her mind. But that wasn’t enough time—not for a rational decision.

  A voice at her elbow recalled her attention suddenly, and C.J. looked up to find one of the ski instructors politely asking her to dance. He was handsome, seemed wonderfully uncomplicated, and was obviously much taken by the new image advertised by her dress.

  Smiling brightly up at him, she accepted his invitation and set her glass back on the table.

  “C.J.—”

  She looked back at Jan as the ski instructor started to lead her away, and said. “It’s a party, right?” Her voice was calm. Without waiting for a response, she added, “Well, I’m going to party!”

  During the next hour, C.J. lost count of her dancing partners. She stayed as far away from Fate and the others as possible, flirting lightly with the men who clustered around her and trying steadily to drown her sorrows. In the back of her mind was the rather grim idea that if she made Fate mad, he would probably make her mad. And she felt safe on angry footing; anything else was treacherously unsteady.

  Knowing from experience that the only change drinking stirred in her was a tendency to accept any challenge offered, she didn’t worry about disgracing herself by becoming drunk. And she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself in the company of men who were out for what they could get.