Be Mine, Miss Valentine

by Patricia Kay

  One of the messengers, a skinny kid of about eighteen, squatted on the floor next to their aisle and said to Kate, "You Veronica Valentine? "

  Kate shook her head and pointed to Ronnie. Ronnie frowned in bewilderment as she accepted the enormous bouquet of sweetheart roses. The people sitting around them turned and looked at her. A few murmured, but in the confusion and bustle surrounding them, they soon lost interest.

  A card was attached to the fragrant flowers, and with trembling fingers, Ronnie opened it. There was only one line. It said: Please come backstage for a glass of champagne when the crowd clears out/Alex. Heat flooded Ronnie's body. Her heart pounded madly.

  "Well?" asked Kate.

  Wordlessly, Ronnie handed her the card.

  Kate whistled.

  Around them, people stood up. The actors had left the stage, all the lights had gone up, and the crowd slowly emptied into the aisles.

  Ronnie stood.

  "Where are you going?" Kate asked.

  "It's over, Kate," Ronnie said. She felt like stone.

  "Sit down," Kate ordered. "We'll never be able to get backstage until these people clear out."

  "I have no intention of going backstage," Ronnie said. She couldn't face him. She'd thought she could, but now she knew she couldn't stand seeing him with Margo. She wanted to be as strong as Elaine had been in the play, but she wasn't.

  "Don't be ridiculous. Of course you're going."

  Ronnie bit her lip and shook her head.

  "Sit down!" Kate hissed. She grabbed Ronnie's arm and yanked her back into her seat.

  "I don't care what you say, Kate. I've made up my mind." There was a lump in her throat that refused to dissolve.

  "Okay," Kate said with a loud sigh. "If that's the way you want it. It's funny, though..."

  Ronnie stared straight ahead.

  "...I never thought you were a coward..."

  Tears misted Ronnie's eyes. The lump grew bigger.

  "...I thought you were brave, strong. I thought you had guts..."

  Ronnie buried her face in the sweet-smelling flowers. Oh, Alex, her heart cried. I can't stand this. I can't. I want to go home.

  "...But if you want to tuck tail and run..."

  "Damn you, Kate," Ronnie said. She swallowed, blinked, raised her head. "All right. You win. I'll go."

  "Attagirl."

  Ronnie turned to look at her friend and saw the satisfied smile on Kate's face. Her green eyes glittered.

  Ronnie's heart lodged somewhere in the vicinity of her throat as she and Kate climbed up to the stage area and parted the curtains.

  Laughing, noisy people jammed the stage. Bottles of champagne frothed, and glasses clinked, and everyone seemed to be talking at once. Ronnie blinked, and Kate squeezed her shoulder.

  "Veronica!"

  The whole world stopped. Sound receded. Faces blurred. Alex stood directly in front of them. Oh, God, he's handsome, Ronnie thought. He looked wonderful in his black tux, his face flushed with success, his eyes shining as he slowly smiled. Warmth flooded his silvery eyes. Love filled her heart as she drank in each remembered feature.

  Alex knew he should say something, but all he could do was stand there and look at her. She looked enchanting in a royal blue velvet dress trimmed in lace ... like an old-fashioned painting ... or valentine. Her huge eyes looked brilliantly blue tonight, seeming even larger than he remembered. But she looked so pale and so solemn. He wished he had the right to gather her in his arms, to kiss her the way he wanted to, to tell her how much he loved her. But he couldn't. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

  He cleared his throat. "I'm so glad you came tonight."

  "I am, too," she said softly. He had to strain to hear her over the noise of the others. "I'd like you to meet my friend, Kate Chamberlin."

  Alex looked at her companion—a tall, slender blonde with dark green eyes. The blonde smiled faintly and extended her hand.

  "Alex Summerfield," he said.

  "Your play was wonderful," she said. "I was enthralled."

  "Yes, Alex. The play was superb. Better even than I'd imagined it would be," Ronnie said. She smiled, but Alex saw the hint of sadness around her mouth and in her eyes.

  Oh, Ronnie, he thought. Have I done this to you? I never meant to hurt you. "You deserve as much credit as I do," he said quickly.

  He saw the faint pink steal into her cheeks.

  "Well, well, well," boomed a hearty voice. "If it isn't the pretty little sheriff!" Bernie Maxwell's dark eyes gleamed.

  Ronnie chuckled, glad to see him, glad for the interruption. She wasn't sure she could hold up much longer. She introduced him to Kate and watched as he gave her lovely friend a quick once-over.

  "Are all your friends this good-looking?" he asked.

  "Hey," Kate said with a smile. "I like this guy. He's got good taste."

  "I'm also rich and unattached," he said. "You interested?"

  Kate grinned. "You never know."

  While the light banter continued, Ronnie stole a look at Alex. His eyes had never left her face, and the look he gave her made her insides roll like pitching waves in a stormy sea. He leaned close to her, and his warm breath on her neck sent a tremor through her body. "You look so beautiful tonight," he said. He touched her arm, and her heart pulsed wildly. "Let's go get you a glass of champagne."

  "Kate..."

  "Forget Kate," he said. "Bernie'll take care of her." He tapped Bernie on his arm, then cupped his hand and said something into Bernie's ear. Bernie looked up, and his dark eyes caught Ronnie's for a moment, then he nodded, and Alex said, "Thanks."

  "Come on," he said to Ronnie. He grabbed her hand and pulled her along behind him. After finding her a glass of champagne, he once again clasped her free hand and led her off into the wings.

  "Wait," she protested. "Where are we going?"

  "You'll see," he said.

  Soon Ronnie found herself following him down a flight of metal steps and into the understage area, a warren of hallways and rooms, full of people coming and going. He stopped in front of a door, knocked once, then opened it.

  "Louisa," he said, "this is Miss Valentine, a friend of mine." A tall, large-boned young woman rose from a rocking chair in the corner of the dressing room. She had a small boy in her arms, a boy with jet black hair and chubby cheeks. When the child turned, Ronnie saw the cleft chin, and her heart lurched. He was so beautiful. He looked exactly like Alex. The child smiled, and Ronnie felt as if someone were squeezing her heart.

  "Christopher," Alex said, "this is Ronnie."

  Christopher ducked his head shyly.

  "Oh, Alex," Ronnie said. "He's beautiful."

  "Louisa, get him ready to go home, would you? Miss Valentine and I will go with you and see him settled in."

  "B... but ... Kate..." Ronnie sputtered, her heart dancing madly. "I ... I can't just leave..."

  "Bernie's going to take Kate on to 21. I told him we'd be there later. That's where the party's going to be," Alex said.

  Ronnie felt dazed. She drained her champagne glass and allowed Alex to help her on with her coat. Together with Louisa and Christopher, they left by the back door and walked out onto Broadway. Cars whizzed by, and fat snowflakes floated down to melt on the sidewalk.

  Alex flagged a cab, and within minutes Ronnie found herself snugly enclosed next to Alex and Christopher. The child squealed with delight as Alex bounced him on his knee. Louisa sat up front with the driver, and it seemed no time at all when the cab swerved to a stop in front of an imposing building near Central Park.

  Once inside Alex's apartment, Ronnie couldn't believe how fast everything had happened since the moment she'd stepped backstage. She'd never intended to be here, in Alex's home, but here she was. There was no sign of Margo.

  Her traitorous heart refused to stop jumping around, and she took a deep breath to try to calm herself. She wet her lips and looked around. The apartment was furnished in an eclectic mix of contemporary and antique furniture, reflecting Alex's d
iverse tastes.

  Louisa took Christopher and disappeared through a doorway.

  "Now," Alex said. He moved close to her and took both of her hands in his. The remembered touch of his hands dissolved the last shred of calm Ronnie had managed to salvage. Her knees felt like butter, and her insides felt like the bubbles from her champagne were still at work. "Now we can talk. Something very important has happened, Ronnie, and I simply couldn't tell you about it in a letter. I had to tell you to your face."

  Chapter 12

  This was it, Ronnie knew. If only she could be strong now. If only she could get through the next few minutes, she knew she'd be able to get through anything.

  "But first," Alex continued, "let's get Christopher to bed. Then we won't have any disturbances."

  Ronnie's stomach muscles unclenched at the reprieve. She quietly allowed Alex to take her hand and lead her out of the living room and down a long hallway to the other end of the apartment. He opened the last door.

  Louisa was buttoning the last button on a pair of flannel pajamas, and Christopher twisted out of her hands impatiently.

  "Daddy! Wonnie!" His pink cheeks glowed, and the toasty eyes were wide as Ronnie and Alex walked toward him. Alex reached for him, but Christopher, with a sly grin, said, "No! Wonnie." He held out his chubby arms, and Ronnie, as if she were someone else, reached for him. Louisa quietly left the room, closing the door behind her.

  Christopher snuggled his smooth, warm cheek against hers. Ronnie loved children. But she'd never had the feeling she experienced at that precise moment. She hugged Alex's son close, breathed in the warm little boy smell, and her heart hurt with an intensity that shocked her.

  She knew why Alex hadn't been able to leave New York. How. could he? If this were her child, she'd hang on to him with every fiber of her being ... do whatever it took to keep him close ... always.

  Alex watched as the woman he loved held the child he loved ... watched as her bright eyes filled with tenderness ... watched as she stroked Christopher's dark hair. His heart swelled. He knew he was standing there like a fatuous fool, but he couldn't help himself. The sight of his son's tousled black hair next to Ronnie's dark brown curls was more beautiful than the most precious gems in Tiffany's windows.

  After what seemed like hours, Alex stirred and said huskily, "Time for bed, sport."

  "No!" Christopher pouted.

  "I see he has a mind of his own," Ronnie said. She wished she didn't have to relinquish the child. He felt right in her arms.

  "Just like his father," Alex said. Then he chuckled. "He's no fool. He knows a gorgeous girl when he sees one." His eyes softened.

  Ronnie looked down. How could he tease her like this? Didn't he know how much pain she was feeling?

  After a few moments they managed to extract Christopher's strong arms from their tight grip, and together they put the boy into his crib. He protested for a while, but they finally got him settled, and Alex leaned down to kiss him. Then Alex turned. "Now we can talk," he said.

  He lightly touched her shoulder, his gray eyes tender. "Let's go into my office."

  Ronnie walked like a sleepwalker beside him ... down the hall ... through another closed door .. into a generous-sized square room lined with bookshelves. On one side was a large brick fireplace, but the room was dominated by a huge oak desk littered with papers and pencils.

  Alex shut the door and guided her to a small leather loveseat. Ronnie shivered as her skin felt the cool leather.

  "You're cold," he said. "We need heat."

  "Oh, no," she protested as he moved toward the fireplace. "Don't go to all that trouble."

  He grinned, and her heart caught. She loved his smile. She loved him. "It's no trouble," he said. "The fireplace is fake. It's just a gas fire." He turned a lever, and merry flames leapt from the jets.

  Ronnie's throat felt tight as he walked back to her, carefully moved the folds of her dress aside and sat next to her. He put his arm behind her, on the back of the sofa. But she could feel his warm flank next to her, and she held her breath as her stupid heart pounded.

  Alex watched as a little pulse beat in her throat and her lower lip trembled almost imperceptibly. All his resolutions to tell her everything first suddenly evaporated, and he couldn't stand being so close without kissing her. His arm moved to her shoulders, his head lowered, and he closed his eyes.

  Ronnie's heart thundered in her ears, and although her head said, "No! No!" her body refused to obey the command. Her lips parted, she lifted her head, and Alex's warm mouth covered hers.

  The kiss filled her universe. Heat exploded in her body, and Ronnie allowed the heat to sweep her into its fiery center. The world tilted, and Ronnie's only coherent thought spun dizzily in her mind. Alex, Alex, Alex. She greedily clung to him, her tongue meeting his in a hunger that might never be sated.

  "Oh, God, I've missed you," he groaned against her open mouth. "The taste of you, the feel of you..." His free hand rested on her collarbone, then moved to touch her breasts.

  A shower of sensation rocketed through her. Unbearable longing consumed her. A piercing ache pulsed in her very core. Insistent. Demanding to be assuaged. Her breath came in ragged spurts. No, no, her mind screamed.

  Shaking her head, she pushed at his hands, pushed at him. "Stop," she said. "Stop this." She jumped up, backed away from him.

  Alex stared at her. With his flushed face and a lock of hair falling into his eyes, he reminded her of a bewildered little boy. Then she looked at his body. No. This was no little boy. This was a grown man who obviously desired her. But physical lovemaking wasn't enough anymore, she thought sadly. She needed more, and he couldn't offer more.

  Suddenly she felt very calm. Her heart slowed, and she breathed evenly. "Please take me to the party, Alex," she said. "I can't do this anymore."

  He stood up, smoothed his hair, drew in a shaky breath. "I'm sorry, Ronnie. I lost control of myself. I didn't mean to do that. I meant to talk to you first." He smiled wryly. "You're just too damn irresistible, that's all."

  "There's really nothing to talk about, Alex. I understand ... now that I've seen Christopher." Why drag out the agony?

  Alex frowned. "Understand what?"

  "Why you're committed to him. Why you can't leave him. And it's all right. I'd do the same thing if I were you."

  "But that's just it! I don't have to leave him!"

  Ronnie clenched her fists. She looked away from his glowing eyes. "That's nice," she said softly. "I'm happy for you." So he and his ex-wife had come to an agreement. What was it to be? A sophisticated open marriage—one where Margo would be free to indulge in her little side romances and Alex would be free to ... Her mind refused to finish the thought. She straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin.

  She met Alex's eyes, and what she saw there bewildered her. A look of love so profound it communicated itself through those calm gray eyes wrapped her in its warmth. Confusion eddied in her.

  "Ronnie, darling. Don't you understand? Margo has gone back to Europe, and she's left Christopher with me!"

  Ronnie opened her mouth, but words had deserted her. She swayed, and Alex reached for her. He held her shoulders firmly. His eyes locked with hers.

  "I love you, Veronica, darling," he said slowly. "I love you more than I ever thought I could love anyone. You are just as precious to me as Christopher, and until a few days ago I was afraid I'd never be able to tell you how I felt."

  Joy jolted through her. "Wh ... what about Margo?" she stammered.

  Alex's hands tightened. "I don't love Margo, you dunce. I love you." Then he pulled her tight against him. She could feel his heart beating. "I love you, and I want you to marry me."

  Ronnie's heart skittered, and a glorious feeling of lightness filled her as his warm mouth found hers again. This time the kiss was sweet and intoxicating. He loved her! He'd finally said it, and the words were even more beautiful, even more wonderful than she'd ever imagined they could be.

  "Whew," he
said softly as he dragged his mouth away from hers. "What you do to me!"

  She laughed shakily. Questions whirled in Ronnie's mind. "Please, Alex," she said. "Please tell me everything."

  "Margo's getting married again," he said with a grin. "Isn't it wonderful?"

  "Getting married again?" Ronnie echoed.

  Alex stroked her face. "Yes. She's marrying Count Rudolph von Hagen, a very rich, very possessive Dane who has no interest in a ready-made family."

  "Alex, I've got to sit down again," Ronnie said.

  Together they walked to the loveseat and sat side by side, Alex's hand gripping hers tightly.

  "It's really immaterial to me whether Margo marries again," he said. "All I care about is that she decided she couldn't provide the kind of home Christopher needs."

  Ronnie squeezed his hand. How wonderful for him.

  "I was blown away when she told me. I had marched over to her place all prepared to do battle to keep Christopher in New York with me, and all my well-rehearsed arguments were tossed out the window when she coolly informed me how she felt and what she wanted."

  "But why did she wait so long to tell you?"

  "She explained that. She said she wasn't sure if I'd want to be saddled with a child. She thought maybe I'd be enjoying my freedom too much, maybe I wouldn't love Christopher."

  Not love Christopher! Ronnie couldn't believe it.

  "I told you Margo never really knew me, Ronnie, but you didn't believe me. Anyway, she said for the first time in her life she was trying to do the unselfish thing. She said she'd always want the right to come here to visit him, and maybe when he was older, if I'd give him permission, he could go to Europe for short vacations and stay with her."

  Ronnie smiled. Alex sounded so happy.

  "Now, my sweet," he said. "Will you please put me out of my misery and answer my question?" He put his hand under her chin and lifted it, gazing into her eyes. A small smile lifted the corners of his mouth.