Starlight
Page 9
The drive to Sea-Tac Airport was accomplished in a companionable silence. Carl seemed to be a quiet, gentle man about the same age as Matthew. His loyalty to Rand was unquestionable. They parked with relative ease and waited in baggage claim.
Rand was the last passenger to arrive, and again the sight of this virile man sent her heartbeat racing. She experienced the urge to rush to him and hug him fiercely; instead, she walked forward almost hesitantly and whispered his name.
Smiling, Rand immediately held his arms open for her. Karen was there in a second, as if it were the most natural place in the world for her to be.
“Welcome home.” Carl greeted him with a smile.
“Thanks, Carl. It’s good to be home.” He smiled at Karen, his look tender and warm. Slipping his arm around her waist, he added, “Very good indeed.”
After a thirty-minute drive, Carl turned off the road and into a long driveway. Karen watched with growing anticipation for the first view of Rand’s home. Having him invite her to his home held a special significance; Karen felt it was almost symbolic. The final defense was being lowered.
She tensed slightly as they drove down the winding driveway. The first view of the house left Karen awestruck. The house was magnificent, a long, sprawling, contemporary rambler. The large grounds were landscaped meticulously. Another smaller home stood in the distance and roused her interest.
Carl answered her unspoken curiosity. “The smaller house is for me and the missus.” His voice was filled with pride.
Holding her hand, Rand led her into his home. He was confident and sure in the familiar surroundings; his movements were precise and made with ease. They stood in the elegantly tiled entryway that led to a sunken living room. The fireplace was lit, the flames reflecting a warm, welcoming glow. A solid-oak dining-room table was set in the formal dining room off the spacious kitchen. The candles flickering from the table’s centerpiece cast dancing shadows across the bone china and crystal glassware.
“It’s beautiful … everything’s beautiful.” Karen spoke with a sense of awe. Rand’s personality was stamped in every piece of furniture, every room. He had allowed her into the inner sanctum of his life; this home was his pride. Shown a hundred different locales, Karen would have immediately known this house belonged to Rand.
Carl brought in the luggage with the instruction to call when Karen was ready to leave.
The door had no sooner closed behind him when Rand turned to her. Very gently, he took her face between his hands. “I’ve missed you.” He bent forward and kissed her with a fierceness that spoke of longing and frustration. Karen responded with an urgency that matched his own. It had always been like this between them; that jolt of charged electricity that sparked the fire of awareness until every nerve sang with life.
He whispered her name, and then slowly released her. With her eyes still closed, Karen swayed toward him. Rand chuckled and kissed her again fleetingly before placing an arm around her shoulders and leading her to the dining room.
“Let’s eat,” he murmured, “while I’m still in control of my senses.”
Karen would have willingly forgone the meal to have remained in his arms.
As before, Dorothy’s cooking was superb. Karen couldn’t remember ever tasting chicken tetrazzini with such exquisite flavor.
After the meal, they decided to have their coffee in front of the fireplace in the living room. Karen cleared the table and brought in the coffee on a tray already prepared by the efficient Dorothy.
Enjoying the warmth of the fire, they talked for a long time. With her head resting against Rand’s shoulder, his arm around her, Karen discovered they shared several interests. They enjoyed the same authors, and both played chess and were addicted to mellow music.
While Karen returned the coffee tray to the kitchen, Rand placed a CD featuring Rimsky-Korsakov’s Scheherazade into his CD player. The melodious sounds filled the air as Karen returned.
“May I have the pleasure of this dance, kind sir?” She curtsied before him, her wool skirt brushing the cream pile carpeting. “As I recall, the last time I did this I was rudely rejected.”
“The last time you wanted to dance, we were on a downtown sidewalk with half of Tacoma looking on,” he remarked, his voice full of humor.
Karen giggled, lifting her arm in entreaty, her body already swaying to the music. “You have no sense of adventure,” she chided him softly.
He gathered her in his arms, his body moving rhythmically with hers. “Every time I’m with you, it’s an adventure.” His hand arched her spine closer, pressing her body intimately against the hard length of his.
Karen closed her eyes and nestled against Rand, glorying in the dizzy emotions he could arouse within her.
They danced, although they barely moved, content to be in each other’s arms, lost in a world created only for them.
When the CD finished, they didn’t move. The pressure of Rand’s fingers at the base of her neck lifted her face upward to meet his descending mouth. Obediently, Karen’s lips parted as she molded herself against him, responding with all her love to his deepening kiss. Her hands around his neck were winding a path through his hair, pulling him closer, igniting a slow-burning fire of passion between them until Karen ached.
The fierceness of his lovemaking awoke yearnings Karen had never experienced, and she moaned in surrender as Rand lowered her onto the couch. His hungry mouth claimed hers again and again while his hand slid intimately over her body, seeking the satin contours of her breasts. Caught in the powerful undertow of her love, Karen felt herself drowning in an ocean of sensations.
Suddenly, Rand raised his head, holding himself away from her. “No … no,” he uttered harshly, his voice hoarse and barely distinct.
Suddenly bereft, Karen tried unsuccessfully to bring his mouth back to hers, struggling against him, holding him as if her life depended on his.
Angrily, his hand closed over her wrists, firmly pushing her away. He stood and strode across the room, his fingers raking his hair.
Bewildered, Karen sat upright. She was shocked by her wanton behavior, but equally disturbed by Rand’s rejection. Her cheeks flamed red from embarrassment and the lingering effects of desire.
“Rand?” It was a muffled cry from her heart.
Rand sat down slowly beside her, gripping her shoulders, forcing her against him.
“Karen, oh, Karen …” His jagged breath was rough against her ear. “It would be the most natural thing in the world to carry you to my bed and love the very life from you. But there would be the reality to face in the morning. Heavens knows I want you. And right now you think you want me, too, but someday you’ll thank me for this.”
“Oh, Rand …” Her voice wobbled, and she clung to him as if being in his arms would prevent the new day rising. Let there be no tomorrow if she couldn’t have him.
Gradually, the desire ebbed, leaving her confused.
Six
“Thank you, I had a wonderful evening,” Karen lied with an ease that amazed her.
The elderly hostess gave her a sympathetic smile. “Do come again.”
Karen smiled weakly in return; the lump in her throat had grown so thick she could barely swallow. She slipped into her coat and stepped outside, where Carl was waiting. Rand remained inside for several minutes. Why had he stayed? He couldn’t possibly be enjoying this. Did he wish to humiliate her further?
Carl glanced at her quizzically. The strain about her mouth and the hurt in her eyes were impossible to hide; she looked away, not wanting anyone else to witness her pain.
Rand joined them.
The ride to Karen’s apartment was completed in a wearisome silence that crowded the large vehicle.
Pride held Karen stiff. What had happened? Why was Rand doing this? Things had been strained between them ever since the night he’d invited her to his home. They had been together several times since, and on each occasion he’d grown less civil, less courteous. He was erecting the gran
ite wall between them again, and Karen didn’t know if she could stand it.
This evening’s party had brought to a climax everything that was wrong between them. Perhaps it wouldn’t have been such a disaster if Cora hadn’t been there, but Rand had made every effort to make Karen uncomfortable. His attitude from the very beginning had been chilling, but once they’d arrived at the party, it was almost as if he’d forgotten her. He sat with Cora, rarely leaving her side, making excuses to touch her, attentive in a way he had never been with Karen.
Karen chatted with several people, attempting to ignore his behavior, but there could be no pretending when Cora flashed her a look of triumph. A look as loud and clear as if she’d shouted it across the room: Rand was hers, had always been hers, and would forever be hers.
“I suppose you’re waiting for an apology?” Rand asked stiffly.
They sat as far apart from each other as possible. “Not unless you feel like making one.”
His laugh was short and humorless. “I don’t.”
“Then it would be pointless, don’t you think?”
He shrugged as if an apology were of little consequence either way.
When Carl stopped in front of her apartment building, Rand straightened. “Would you escort the lady to her door, Carl?” The command was issued as if he couldn’t bear to even say her name.
Carl muttered something unintelligible under his breath. Karen didn’t wait for him to open her car door, jerking it open with a violence that demonstrated the pain of this final humiliation. Had she come to mean so little to Rand that even the courtesy of taking her to her door was beyond him?
Her lips trembled, and she avoided Carl’s probing gaze. “Don’t bother, Carl,” she spoke in a tight, shaky voice. “I’ll let myself in.”
“It’s no problem, miss.”
As he inserted the key into her lock, Karen looked back to the car. The streetlight illuminated the dejected, solitary figure inside. Rand had slouched forward, his hands covering his eyes, portraying the picture of a man weighted by an intolerable sadness.
Carl’s eyes followed Karen’s. “He’s been under heavy pressure lately. I’m sure he didn’t mean anything.”
Tears welled in Karen’s eyes; she blinked with the effort to hold them back. Gently, she placed her hand on the older man’s arm.
“Thank you,” she said softly.
“Well, you certainly look in better spirits than you did the other day.” Judy took a slice of carrot from the tray; James and Carter quickly followed suit.
“Hey, you guys, cut it out. There won’t be anything left for Rand.” She slapped their hands playfully, her eyes laughing. “I feel a whole lot better.” Her eyes met Judy’s briefly, knowingly. “I don’t know what’s up with Rand, but you can darn well bet I’m going to find out.”
Judy laughed at the spark in Karen’s eye. “You know, I almost pity him.”
“How do I look? Do you think I’m overdoing things a bit?” She was wearing the birthday dress Judy had made for her. Not only was it one of the loveliest things she owned, but it boosted her confidence, reminding her of the support and love of her family.
“You’re lovely,” Judy assured her quickly.
“Aunt Karen, can I light the candles?” James questioned enthusiastically.
“Not yet; I don’t want to light them until right before Rand gets here.”
Both boys gave a disappointed sigh. “All right, I’ll tell you what.” She playfully tousled the tops of their heads. “The next time you’re over, I’ll have a candlelight dinner just for you.”
“Can I light the candles?” James asked again.
“Naturally.”
“But I’d rather have hot dogs than the smelly stuff.” Carter wrinkled his nose at the odor of marinating steak.
“I’ll have you know that smelly stuff cost me a week’s allotment for meat,” Karen informed them indignantly. “But don’t worry, if you want hot dogs, then we’ll have hot dogs.”
The boys gave their approval with a loud cheer.
“I think we’d better go. I don’t want to be here when Rand arrives,” Judy said after checking her wristwatch.
Karen was grateful. “Remember to keep Dad occupied and out of my hair. It would be just like him to drop by for a visit, and I don’t want any interruptions.”
Judy winked dramatically. “Gotcha.”
Suddenly, Karen was unsure of herself. Was she doing the right thing by forcing the issue? “Are you sure everything is right? The wine goes with the meal? The candles aren’t too much? I’m not overdressed?” she asked all in one giant breath.
Judy shook her head dismissively. “Settle down. Everything is perfect; you have nothing to worry about.”
“You’re sure?” Karen glanced around nervously.
“I’m sure. All right, boys, let’s visit grandpa.” The boys ran ahead. Impulsively, Judy gave Karen a hug. “Good luck. Everything will work out beautifully; wait and see.”
Karen wished she possessed the same confidence. Her fingers toyed with the gold locket Rand had given her as if she could draw solace and courage from its presence.
She was placing the finishing touches on the salad when the doorbell chimed. Karen hurriedly wiped her hands on the apron, then carelessly tossed it aside. Pausing for a moment, she closed her eyes to compose herself.
It had been only a few days since she’d last seen Rand, and yet her nerves raced at the physical impact of his presence.
“Hello.” She greeted him with false cheerfulness and slid her hands up the lapels of his coat, anticipating his kiss. He hesitated before claiming her mouth. The kiss lacked tenderness or warmth, and Karen avoided another.
“I hope you like marinated steak,” she said casually as she hung up his coat. His face looked tight and a little pale. “How about a glass of wine?”
Rand smiled faintly. “Do you have anything stronger?”
“Do you think you’re going to need it?” she challenged.
He ignored the question and sat in the overstuffed chair Karen had purchased for its deep-cushioned comfort. But Rand didn’t relax; his posture remained tense and straight. “I’ll take the wine.”
While Karen poured for both of them, her gaze rested briefly on Rand. His facial features, which suggested strength and pride, seemed more pronounced. She watched as he wearily rubbed the back of his neck.
When he accepted the wine, his eyes held a dark, unreadable light. As she sat opposite him, he withdrew a neatly wrapped package from his pocket.
“This is for you,” he said tightly.
Karen took the package, her eyes widening with surprise. Was the gift a means of apologizing for his rude behavior these past weeks? Karen relaxed against the back of her seat, suddenly wanting to sing.
Her fingers fumbled as she removed the ribbon and paper. It was a jeweler’s case; the name of an exclusive and expensive store was stamped in gold across the top. She hesitated for only a moment before opening the lid.
On a bed of red velvet lay a shimmering gold bracelet, one more beautiful than anything she’d ever hoped to own. She longed to go to him, touch him, thank him as only a lover could. Instead, she whispered softly, “I’ve never seen anything this beautiful. Thank you.”
When she glanced at him, she was surprised to note his wineglass was empty and she’d yet to taste hers. She was reaching for her glass when Rand spoke.
“The bracelet is my way of saying good-bye.” The words, savage and tender all at once, were spoken softly.
Karen was so shocked she nearly dropped her glass; part of the wine emptied into her lap.
“What did you say?” She was so stunned she hardly noticed the sudden wetness.
“I said,” he began coldly, deliberately, “this is good-bye.”
Karen searched his face, praying she’d find some evidence that would tell her he was joking. “You don’t mean that.”
He gave one of those abrupt, mirthless laughs she had come to hate. �
��I mean it. We’re both adults, and I believe we can do this in an adult manner. I won’t be coming here again, and I don’t want you to make an effort to see me.”
“Why?” The lone word was wrenched from her.
“Damn it, Karen, I’m tired of playing your romantic games. I think it’s time you grew up.” His body was stiff with determination, his face expressionless, a tight mask.
“I can’t understand why you’re doing this.” Her eyes pleaded with him, implored him.
“Why did you make me do it like this? The things I’ve done to you in the last two weeks couldn’t have driven the message home more forcefully. Why do you have to be so damn stubborn? Why did you keep coming back for more hurt, more humiliation?” Although his voice was forceful and steady, it contained an element of pain, as if he found it as difficult to say the words as it was for her to hear them. “I don’t want you. Can I make it any plainer than that?” He was shouting at her, then paused and began again, more controlled. “I don’t like myself when I’m around you.”
Karen’s throat muscles were so tight she didn’t know if she could breathe much longer. “Please, Rand, don’t do this to us.” Where was her pride? She choked on a sob but swallowed it before it could escape and humiliate her further.
“You did this to us,” he accused her harshly. “You and your trial relationship. Why in the hell couldn’t you leave things alone? I didn’t want you then, and I don’t want you now. Do you understand?”
Hurt and anger flashed from the depth of her dark eyes. “I understand, all right. You’re only half a man, a blind coward, and I’ve discovered I want a whole man. Would you just leave?” she screamed, but her heart was begging him to stay.
He stood abruptly. “I’ve heard enough.”
“While you’re at it, take the bracelet with you.” She threw it at him, box and all; it hit his chest and bounced onto the floor, spilling onto the carpet.
“And this.” She jerked the locket from her throat, snapping the delicate gold chain, and threw it at him with all her strength. Rand flinched as it hit him in the face.