by Diana Palmer
“Hello?”
“Bess?” Elissa faltered.
“Oh, it’s Elissa, isn’t it?” came the enthusiastic reply. “Kingston isn’t here right now, I’m afraid, but...”
Elissa paused. “Do you know where he is?”
“Not offhand, but I can take a message.”
“No. Thank you.” She hesitated, desperate to ask if the divorce had gone through. She settled for, “Is Bobby doing all right?”
“He’s already back at work,” Bess said, her voice oddly soft, “cast, crutches and all. I... Are you sure I can’t take a message for Kingston? I’m not sure he’ll be home tonight, but I could—”
“No. I’m glad your... I’m glad Bobby is doing well. Goodbye.”
“Wait!”
But she hung up, trembling all over. So now she knew. Bess was living with King.
She almost let it go at that and made her plans without trying again. But that was the coward’s way out. She phoned his office, only to be told that he wasn’t in and they didn’t know when to expect him. She left word, but the secretary didn’t sound reliable. As soon as she hung up, she wrote a terse note and dropped it in the mail, addressed to his Oklahoma City office. Perhaps he could find time to read it, she thought unreasonably, and went back to her designs.
She’d finished her collection, mailed the completed designs to Angel Mahoney and picked out a nice town near Saint Augustine to move to. She packed her things, careful not to let her parents see the baggage. She’d leave in the morning. It had been over a week since she’d mailed that note to King, and she was sure he’d seen it by now. Perhaps he didn’t want any complications and was going to ignore it. That wasn’t like him, but men in love weren’t always rational, she guessed. He’d wanted Bess for a long time, and now he had her. It wasn’t his fault that he wanted to look ahead and not behind him.
Warchief was quiet these days, almost as if he knew he’d lose his home if he kept being noisy. He purred at Elissa and talked to her, but he’d stopped making such wild noises at dawn and dusk. She wondered if he was sick.
Heaven knew, she was. The morning sickness hadn’t let up, and she was beginning to feel pregnant. Her slacks were tight, and her breasts were sensitive. She grinned at all the little disadvantages. None of them mattered, because she was going to have a baby and love it so much that it would feel as wanted as she always had.
She settled down to bed that night, leaving her parents sitting up to talk. There was a full moon and a scattering of stars, and she closed her eyes with a sigh. King would be seeing that moon out his window in Oklahoma, probably with Bess lying beside him. She hoped Bess would be kind to him. Tears stung her eyes. Instead of getting easier, bearing the knowledge that she’d never see King again was getting harder every day. But she’d better get used to it, she chided herself. Forever was a long time.
About two o’clock in the morning, she and Warchief were awakened by a thunderous knocking on the front door. With a white chenille bathrobe thrown hastily over her nightgown, she rubbed her sleepy eyes and stumbled to the door, calling, “Who’s there?”
“Kingston Roper,” came the gruff reply.
She fumbled the door open. With his jacket slung carelessly over his arm, his tie hanging haphazardly around his neck, and his face hard and drawn and in need of a shave, he looked haggard and weary but devastatingly handsome. And Elissa wouldn’t have cared if he’d been covered in mud.
“Come in,” she said, fighting down the impulse to throw herself at him, trying to appear calm when her heart was beating her to death and her breath was stuck somewhere below her collarbone.
He stood looking at her as she shut the door again, his eyes dark and troubled and oddly hungry. He didn’t move, as if riveted to the spot, staring.
“What was that noise? Oh, hello, Mr. Roper,” Tina said, smiling at him from the door of their room off the living room. “You look exhausted. Elissa, there’s some decaffeinated coffee you can reheat, and some of that cake I made. You can put Mr. Roper in the spare room if he’s staying. Good night, dear.”
She closed the door again, and King turned back to Elissa.
“I’ll heat the coffee if you’d like a cup,” she said quietly.
He searched her face, looking for any sign of welcome, but there was none. His eyes dulled. He’d hoped so desperately that she might have missed him even a fraction as much as he’d missed her. He’d stayed away deliberately, denying himself the sight and sound and feel of her all this time to try to make her miss him, to make her see the light. And he knew that it hadn’t worked. He looked at her and thought he’d die of emptiness if she sent him away. He followed her into the kitchen without another word, as cold inside as an empty tomb.
CHAPTER TWELVE
KING SAT DOWN in the chair Elissa indicated and watched her move around the kitchen, slicing cake and heating cups of coffee in the small microwave oven. She looked delicious. Glowing. Wait a minute—didn’t they say that pregnant women glowed? He took a slow breath, feeling warm all over with the possibility of it, with possession in his eyes as they followed her. He’d win her back somehow. He had to.
“I didn’t expect you,” she said.
“I went back to the office tonight to check some figures,” he said as she placed mugs of steaming coffee on the table, along with saucers and forks and slices of cake. “I’ve been in Jamaica,” he added, glancing up.
“Have you?” She nibbled at her cake.
“Your cottage had a young redhead in it,” he remarked. “She said her parents had bought the cottage from you. Warchief was gone, too.”
“I have him here,” she said. She took another bite of the cake, still without looking at him. “You found my letter tonight, I guess?”
“Buried in a stack of bids,” he confirmed. He left half his cake uneaten and leaned back in the chair with his coffee cup in his hand, studying her. “Was that note the best you could do?” he added. “A terse ‘Need to talk to you when you have time. Best wishes, Elissa’?”
She flushed. “I’d already tried your ranch and your office. Nobody seemed to know where you were.”
“Nobody did, for a while,” he said. He didn’t mention that the past few weeks had been pure hell. His temper had become so vile that it had already cost him two of his best junior executives. So much for testing that absence-makes-the-heart-grow-fonder business, he thought angrily. She didn’t look any the worse for wear, but he sure as hell did. He stared at her coolly. “Are you having any morning sickness?”
She almost dropped the coffee cup.
“Well, why else would you bother to contact me?” he chanced. “It wasn’t out of love. You told me how you felt when you left,” he said curtly, his dark eyes glittering at her across the table. “The only possible reason was that I’d made you pregnant. So here I am.” He didn’t mention that he’d practically bought an airline to get here that fast.
“There was no rush,” she said. “I’ve got everything worked out. My parents know,” she added softly. “They didn’t make accusations or rage at me or even try to shame me. They said...” She bit back tears. “They said people are human.”
“Oh, God,” he whispered roughly. Though he himself was delighted—surely she’d reconsider and marry him now—he hadn’t thought about how her parents would take the news. He wasn’t surprised that they’d stand by her, though. They were good people, and they loved her.
“It’s all right. I make more than enough money to take care of myself and the baby. And you can visit if you like,” she told him. “But I’d rather you waited a while,” she said, lifting tired eyes to his. “I don’t want people gossiping, and it’s the last kind of complication you need right now.”
He stared at her blankly. Bess said Elissa had called, so didn’t she know that Bobby and Bess were back together? “It’s my baby,” he said simply. “I want to take
care of you both.”
“I don’t need taking care of, thank you,” she said with forced calm, remembering that he hadn’t bothered to make a move toward her in seven weeks and that Bess was now living with him.
He exhaled angrily, leaning forward to pin her with his dark, quiet eyes. “I’m responsible for you,” he said. “This is all my fault.”
“I’m not blaming you,” she replied. “That isn’t why I contacted you. I gave my word that I would, if it happened.”
He stopped breathing for an instant. “That’s the only reason you got in touch with me?”
Her eyebrows arched with practiced carelessness. “What other reason would I have had?”
He wanted to throw something. “You loved me once,” he growled.
“Oh, I’ve gotten over that,” she assured him, rising to put the empty cups into the sink and praying that he wouldn’t see through the fiction of what she was saying to the agony underneath. She swallowed down tears. “It was just infatuation. I was pretty naive, you know, and you were very experienced. Any girl can lose her head with a sexy man. I just happened to be a little too naive. You see—” She turned to tell him a few more choice lies, but he wasn’t there. Seconds later, she heard the front door open softly and close. Then a car engine roared once, and she heard the vehicle drive away.
It had no sooner pulled away than the phone rang. What a night, she thought miserably. At least, thank God, she’d kept her composure. King hadn’t guessed how she’d grieved for him, and that was something. He’d leave her alone now, and she and the baby would be each other’s world. King wouldn’t have to sacrifice his happiness with Bess on Elissa’s account.
She lifted the receiver on the second ring, hoping her parents hadn’t been disturbed again. “Hello?” she said, wiping away a tear.
“Elissa?”
It was Bess. Elissa glared at the telephone. “If you’re looking for King, you’re too late. He’s on his way back to you—I made sure of that—and you don’t have to worry. I won’t bother him again. The baby and I will manage just fine.”
“Baby?” Bess sounded shocked.
“King will tell you all about it, I’m sure. It’s no concern of his anymore.”
“Please don’t hang up,” Bess said suddenly.
“I can imagine what you have to say to me, but—” Elissa began quietly.
“No, you can’t,” Bess interrupted softly. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’ve loused things up for you and Kingston, and I almost destroyed my own marriage, all because I couldn’t tell Bobby the truth, couldn’t tell him what I really wanted. Elissa, Bobby and I aren’t getting a divorce. I finally got up enough nerve to swallow my pride and say what I felt, and now we’re staying together. I was sure Kingston would have told you by now. He was the one who convinced me to talk to Bobby,” she added, stunning Elissa into silence. “I tried to tell you when you phoned that time, but you hung up. Bobby and I were visiting him.”
Elissa could hardly breathe. “Visiting?” she echoed hoarsely.
“I guess you had a pretty good idea what was going on all along, but most of it was just in my mind. Poor Kingston was truly caught in the middle, all because he felt sorry for me. Well, he’s big brother again, and I do adore him. But if you’d seen him these past weeks, you’d know that he didn’t give a hang about me—not the way you thought. He’s nearly worked himself to death, taken crazy chances with the livestock and that new sports car of his—he’s gone hog wild, Margaret says. Margaret tried to get him to go see you, but he wouldn’t. He said he couldn’t go until you asked him to, because that would mean you still loved him. Margaret says he loved you all along, only he didn’t know it. I think he knows it now. I just hope I haven’t done anything to take his last chance away from him. I think he’ll go crazy without you, and that’s the truth.”
Elissa was still trying to find her voice. “I sent him away,” she whispered tearfully. “I thought you and he were getting married. I couldn’t let him sacrifice his own happiness...just because I was pregnant.”
“Oh, Lord, I hate myself!” Bess groaned. “Listen, can’t you go after him?”
“I don’t know where he’s gone,” Elissa wept.
“Well, if he comes here, I’ll send him back,” Bess promised. “Now you go get some sleep. Don’t worry too much, it isn’t healthy for the baby. My gosh, Bobby and I will be uncle and aunt. That sounds so nice. Get some sleep, honey. Everything will be okay—I promise.”
Elissa’s heart warmed at the compassion in that soft voice. “I’ll be all right,” she said. “You’ll let me know if he shows up there?”
“Of course I will. And good luck.”
“Thanks.” Elissa hung up with a sigh. Lately, all her luck seemed to be bad. She went to the sink and bathed her flushed face. It didn’t help a whole lot, so she went out the back door and onto the quiet beach. Maybe a walk would help clear her mind.
She wandered along in her robe, hardly seeing where she was going for the pain. What irony, she thought miserably. She’d sent him away, and for what?
She didn’t notice the silent figure near the dune until he spoke. “You’ll catch cold,” he said, his voice deep and lazy.
Elissa whirled, catching her breath, to find King sitting there, smoking a cigarette. He was in his shirtsleeves, his chest bare where the white shirt was unbuttoned, his dark hair untidy.
“What are you sitting there for?” she asked shakily. “I thought you’d gone.”
“Oh, I started to,” he agreed pleasantly. “And then I realized I had no place to go.”
“There are hotels in Miami,” she faltered, wrapping her arms around herself as she drank in the sight of him, her eyes adoring every hard, powerful line of his body in the darkness.
“You don’t understand.” He put out the cigarette. “You’re the only home I have, Elissa,” he said quietly. “I don’t have any other place to go.”
Tears stung her eyes. She’d never dreamed, even when Bess was telling her those things, that he cared that much. Trembling a little with mingled excitement and fear, she went to him and dropped to her knees in front of him.
“I thought it was Bess,” she said simply.
He looked up at her, his eyes dark with possession. “So did I, at first,” he returned. “Until you started taking me over, that is. First my body, then my heart. In the end, all I felt for Bess was compassion and responsibility. I could have told you that when you left, but you wouldn’t listen,” he said gruffly. “Seven weeks I’ve stayed away, hoping against hope that you’d miss me. I broke speed records getting here tonight, and for what? To be told you didn’t give a damn!”
She stopped the tirade with her mouth. Poor wounded man, she thought. She slid her arms around his neck and felt him tremble as she pushed, gently unbalancing him. He fell against the dune, and she fell with him, her softness melting over him, her eyes red from crying, her mouth tasting of salty tears.
“Will you listen?” he ground out against her lips. Then he groaned and captured her, enfolding her against the warm strength of his body. His mouth opened under hers. She felt the deep penetration of his tongue, the throb of his heart. He was hers.
She nibbled his lower lip, lifting her head to stare down at him, her eyes adoring, sure of him. Her hands smoothed back his hair, and she smiled as she touched him with confident possession.
“Are you, by any chance, trying to seduce me?” he whispered. His heart was pounding, and his body was making insistent statements about what it wanted. He tried to shift her so that she wouldn’t feel how vulnerable he was, but he couldn’t budge her.
“Just lie still,” she chided. “I know you want me, so there’s no use trying to hide it.”
He glared up at her. “Rub it in,” he muttered.
She bent and kissed his eyelids with aching tenderness. “Were you going to sleep on th
e beach?” she whispered.
“If that was as close to you as I could get, yes,” he said angrily.
He was a hard man, she thought lovingly, lifting her head to look at him. A real handful. But she could manage him. They’d been friends a lot longer than they’d been lovers, and now she knew how to throw him off balance, as well.
She sat up, opening her robe. “I want to show you something,” she said without the least bit of self-consciousness, although she peeked down the beach, knowing her parents were eventually going to come looking for her. Under the robe, she was as she slept, bare except for a tiny pair of blue briefs.
He stared at her, stunned, as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
“This is what you did to me,” she whispered tenderly. She took his hands and held them to her minutely swollen waistline, watching the incredible expression that tautened his face as he touched her.
“My child...” His voice was soft, deep, reverent.
She gathered his head against her sensitive breasts, tears stinging her eyes as she rocked him, cradled him, feeling his lips touch her, though not in a sexual way. His hands smoothed over her under the robe as he brought her against his body, holding her so close that she could barely breathe. And she cried, because he cared and because she loved him.
“You little imp,” he whispered, nuzzling her warm throat. “I’m so crazy about you. I would have carried you home to Oklahoma in my arms, walking.”
Her lips touched his face, her breath catching as he turned and put his mouth with aching tenderness to her breasts.
His hands came up to touch them, to cup them. He moved, laying her down gently on the robe so that he could look, could explore the new contours of her body with his child tucked under her heart.
“Our baby,” he whispered, his fingers trembling as he lay beside her in the darkness with the surf crashing behind them.
She trembled with the profundity of the moment. “I know exactly when we made him,” she whispered.
He met her eyes. “So do I, to the very second. I meant to, even though I was temporarily confused about Bess. Do you know that the minute I got home from putting you on that plane, I patched up her marriage? She admitted that she loved Bobby, that she was just lonely. She’d never stopped loving him, but she was afraid to tell him how she really felt. She did, though, and now they’re closer than ever. They’re even talking about having babies.”