“No, not at all. I was just having a cup of coffee.” She looked wildly around the room, searching for something to say. Anything that wouldn’t sound as though she’d been sitting there waiting for him to call.
“I’ve been pretty busy,” she said with a laugh that sounded phony, even to her. “I don’t get many chances to sit and enjoy a coffee.”
“I’ve been busy, too.”
“You have?” Now that she had calmed down a bit, she tried to analyze his voice. He didn’t sound upset or angry. So why was he calling? Her heart thudded with hope, and she did her best to smother it.
“Yes, I have. The Bridgemonts floated me a pretty decent loan, and I’ve been busy setting things in motion for my new business.”
“Same line?”
“No, I’m getting back into the manufacturing side of things. Emergency devices for fishing boats. Among other things.”
“Sounds interesting. Here in town?”
“Pretty close to where you live, as a matter of fact.”
“Oh?” Was that bad or good, she thought, careening back and forth between hope and rejection.
“Yeah, that’s why I’m calling. I thought we could get together on this.”
Hope crashed. “You want to use my answering service? Great! I could use some more customers.” She prayed he wouldn’t hear the disappointment in her voice.
“Look, I hate talking about this stuff on the phone. How about I pick you up for dinner tonight? That’s if you’re free.”
She was on the point of telling him she had a business engagement. Then pride kicked in. To hell with him. She was damned if she was going to let him run her out of town. And if their businesses were going to be this close to each other, she was bound to run into him now and again. She might just as well get it over with.
Closing her eyes, she said firmly, “I’m free.”
* * *
She sat facing him later, across a white tablecloth and flickering candles, in the corner booth of a riverside restaurant. He wore a white shirt under his dark jacket and a maroon tie. It was the first time she’d seen him dressed up. He looked different: sophisticated, confident and so far removed from her he might as well have been in Hong Kong.
She concentrated as best she could on the business at hand, discussing the fees and schedules as if he were merely a client and not the man she loved so desperately.
The restaurant had a reputation for the best food in town. She couldn’t taste a morsel of it. The wine might have been water for all she knew. The ache in her throat and in the pit of her stomach prevented her from enjoying anything she put in her mouth.
Turner seemed to have no such problem. He ate heartily and appeared not to notice that she hardly touched a bite. He talked about his new business, and the house he had rented with a large garden for Harrie and fields across the street.
“Harrie will be moving in with me this weekend,” he said after the busboy finally cleared away the dishes. “She’s been to visit her new school and she’s really looking forward to going there in September. I guess she made quite a hit with the boys when she told them she was an expert knife thrower. She was real mad at me when I told her she wouldn’t be throwing any more knives.”
From somewhere Claire found a smile. “I’m sure she’ll find another way to impress them. Harrie can be very creative.”
Turner laughed, a sound that brought pleasure and pain all at the same time. “That she can. I think she’s going to be all right.”
“I’m glad.” She wanted to ask if she could visit her again, but wasn’t sure that would be a good idea.
He threw her off guard when he surprised her by saying, “It’s her birthday next week, as you know. And Harrie and I wondered if you’d like to have a birthday dinner with us. She wants to celebrate in the new house. Though I should warn you, I’ll be the chef.”
Taken by surprise, she stammered, “I—I’d like that. Thank you, I’d love to.”
His smile only added to her confusion. “Good. Harrie will be excited about seeing you again.”
She caught his gaze and couldn’t seem to look away. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw warmth in the silver blue depths of his eyes. The candle’s glow cast shadows across his face, and she saw a tiny muscle dance in his cheek.
Soft music played in the background, music she hadn’t been aware of before now. It was a love song, the words repeating what was in her heart as she stared at him across the table.
Someone nearby cleared his throat, and startled, she looked up to see the waiter standing there.
“Is there anything else I can get you, sir?”
“Claire?”
She looked back at Turner, into the polite detachment she had seen all evening. She must have imagined the warmth in his eyes a moment ago, she told herself as she shook her head. More wishful thinking. “Thank you, no. It was wonderful. I enjoyed it very much.”
Turner nodded at the waiter, who laid down the folder containing the bill and glided away.
Claire sipped her coffee, still shaken by the electricity she’d felt in their exchanged glance. Already she was beginning to regret having accepted the invitation to dinner. It might have been better if she’d suggested taking Harrie out somewhere for a treat, instead.
“Claire?”
She jumped, aware that Turner sat watching her, a thoughtful expression on his face. “I’m sorry?”
“I asked if you were ready to leave.”
“Yes. Of course.” Feeling like an idiot, she gathered up her purse and rose from her chair.
Acutely aware of him close behind her, she led the way out to the foyer. He moved ahead of her to open the door to the parking lot, saying, “I wonder if you’d mind doing me a favor.”
“If I can. What is it?”
“I’m in the process of redecorating Harrie’s bedroom. I’m afraid I’m not too good at this kind of thing, and the only other woman I could ask is my ex-mother-in-law. Somehow I think Harrie would prefer your taste.”
The faint hint of fall put a chill in the night air, and she suppressed a shiver as she walked with him across the dimly lit parking lot. “I’ll do what I can. What is it you want to know?”
“I picked up some samples of wallpaper today. I thought I’d order some stuff from the catalog, as well. Would you take a look at them for me? You know more about this stuff than I do.”
She slid into the car seat and waited for him to join her, wondering why he hadn’t brought the samples with him that evening. Most likely he hadn’t wanted her to think he’d taken her help for granted. They had not been on the best of terms the last time they’d seen each other.
Pain caught her unawares, and she dismissed the scene from her mind. She didn’t need to be reminded of the hurt in his voice when he’d accused her of not trusting him.
She tensed when he slid in next to her and shut the door. Enclosed in that small space, she felt desperately vulnerable. “I’ll be happy to take a look at the samples,” she said as he drove out of the parking lot. “When I come over for dinner? Will that do?”
“Actually, I was hoping to get it done before Harrie moves in.”
She looked at him in surprise. “You’re going to wallpaper a room before the weekend?”
“Sure, it will only take a couple of days. It’s a small room. I got permission from the landlord. Once I know what I want, I can go to one of those wallpaper places to pick it up.”
“But the drapes—”
“Will take three days to get here after I order. Should be here by the weekend, right?”
“You’re leaving it a little late,” Claire said, half-amused by this example of male disorganization.
“I didn’t move in myself until a couple of days ago.”
She felt his glance on her face. “Well, I’m sure we can put something together between us.”
“Yes, that’s what I’m hoping.”
Did she imagine that slight teasing note in his voice? Deciding she had, she said, “Wha
t color scheme did you have in mind?”
“I don’t know. Harrie likes yellow, but I’m not sure if that’s the right color for a girl’s room. She had pink in the cabin.”
“Yes,” Claire said softly, “I remember.”
She was pleasantly surprised by the house Turner had rented. An older home, it had a charm and character that the more modern homes could never possess.
Harrie was going to love it there, she thought as she followed Turner around the different rooms.
“This is Harrie’s room,” Turner said, throwing open a door. “You can’t see the view now because it’s dark, but the window faces the fields, and beyond them you can see the mountain range quite clearly. I think Harrie will like it.”
“She’ll love it.” Claire looked around the spacious room with its large window and sloped ceiling. “I love the roomy closet and the built-in drawers. It really is charming.”
Turner opened the closet door to reveal more drawers and two rows of rails divided into compartments. “Lots of room for her clothes.” He gave her a rueful smile. “Her gran’ma is already out buying school clothes.”
Claire grinned. “I can imagine. I’m so glad you’ve patched things up with the Bridgemonts.”
“Yeah, well, let’s say it’s an uneasy alliance at best. I’m just hoping it will work out okay.”
“You’re trying. That’s the main thing.”
His gaze rested on her face, warming it. “Oh, I’m trying,” he said softly.
She looked away, annoyed with herself for reading so much into a simple glance. “So where are the wallpaper samples?”
“In the living room. But you haven’t seen all the rooms yet.”
Her heart turned over as he led the way out the door. She had seen all the rooms except his bedroom. She’d been hoping he wouldn’t show her that one.
She followed him along the narrow passageway, feeling more awkward by the minute. He paused in front of a door, his hand on the door handle.
“There’s something I wanted to tell you,” he said, “before I show you this room.”
“What is it?” She glanced up at him, and something in his face sped up her heartbeat.
“I’ve already redecorated this room. I did it before I moved in.”
“Ah, well, that’s nice.” She looked away again.
“I really hope you like it.”
“I’m sure I will.” What was the matter with him? she thought. Why doesn’t he open the door?
“I didn’t want it to look too masculine.”
“Oh?”
“No, I wanted it to be the kind of room a woman would enjoy, too.”
She shot him another glance, not sure if he was teasing or not. He didn’t look as if he were teasing. In fact, he looked deadly serious.
Her heart sank several notches. Was he trying to tell her he’d met someone else? Or was he perhaps warning her that he intended to meet someone else?
“I’m thinking of getting married again, Claire.”
She took several seconds to find her voice. When she did, she felt proud of the calm way it sounded. “How nice. Anyone I know?”
It was a stupid remark. She didn’t know anyone in town anymore. It had just slipped out. One of those things that seemed right to say at the time. She searched in her mind for something else to say, but he opened the door and ushered her in.
She caught her breath when she saw the room. The soft gray wallpaper was delicately striped with pale-peach roses. A peach-and-pale-green quilt covered the queen-size bed, and matching curtains hung at the window.
With a catch in her throat, she said, “It’s lovely, Turner. Really lovely. You have excellent taste.” She couldn’t look at him. Instead she looked over at the window. “And what kind of view does this room have?”
“You can see the lights of the city from here, and the West Hills. Here, I’ll show you.”
His arm brushed hers as he moved past her to open the drapes. She felt sure he must have felt her jump. She watched him draw back the curtains, then exclaimed in delight when she saw the panorama of lights.
“I didn’t realize you were this high up. It really is quite a view.”
“I’m glad you like it.” He pulled the drapes closed again, then turned to look at her. “Because I want you to share it with me.”
She stared at him, her mind refusing to believe what she so badly wanted to believe.
He smiled, yet his eyes were wary as he said, “I love you, Claire. I’m asking you to marry me.”
She couldn’t find her voice at all now. Neither could she tear her gaze away from his.
His smile wavered. “Please? We need you, Harrie and I. We both love you very much.”
She searched his face, looking for the slightest sign of pity, and found none. Instead she saw the love shining in his eyes and in his smile. “I love you, too,” she whispered. “Both of you.”
“Then please say you’ll marry me and put me out of my misery.”
“Oh, Turner.” She flung herself forward, closing her eyes as he tightened his arms around her. “I want to. I really want to. But—”
“But what?” He drew back to look into her eyes.
“I can’t give you any more children—”
He shut the words off with his mouth on hers, searing her body with its heat. When he finally lifted his head, she was breathless.
“I don’t care about that,” he said, still holding her close to him. “And neither does Harrie. We held a discussion on it. I didn’t want the subject coming up later and upsetting you.”
“Turner...”
This time he closed her lips with his finger against them. “Claire, you are a beautiful, intelligent, loving, compassionate woman, who will make my daughter the most wonderful mother she could ask for. That is so much more than I ever thought we’d have. Harrie has plenty of company at school, and now that she’s closer to town, she’ll make friends who can visit back and forth. That’s if you don’t mind a houseful of kids now and again.”
She looked up at him, her heart in her eyes. “I think I’m going to cry.”
“No, you are not. First you are going to promise to marry me. Then I am going to make intense, passionate love to you to seal the promise. Then we can decide on the wallpaper for Harrie’s room. And the wallpaper for your room.”
“My room? I thought this was going to be my room with you.”
His kiss almost destroyed all her senses this time. Letting her up for air, he said huskily, “I take it that’s a yes?”
“It’s a yes.” She smiled at him, her whole body aching with her love for him. “Yes, Turner, I would love to marry you and Harrie.”
He grinned. “I’m going to have that printed up and framed.”
“So what’s this about my room?” She could feel the tingle of anticipation, remembering his promise to make love to her. She wanted him so badly. And she could tell he wanted her.
“The attic,” he said, appearing immensely pleased with himself.
“The attic?”
“You can have the entire floor for your answering service. It goes clear across the top of the house. We can put an air conditioner up there and you can run your business from there.” He dropped a kiss on her nose. “You do want to run your business, don’t you?”
Delighted that he had made that assumption, she hugged him. “Did I ever tell you that you are a wonderful man, and I love you?”
He looked suddenly serious. “I love you, too, Claire. Very much. I want to spend the rest of my life making you happy.” This time his kiss lingered, catching fire between them.
She gave herself up to the heat of it, her fingers busy with the buttons of his shirt. He was impatient this time, his hands all over her body, eagerly tugging off her clothes and then his own.
With one swift movement he swept back the quilt on the bed and pushed her down, his body covering hers. His mouth roamed her bare flesh, sending hot sensations to her reeling senses everywhere he tou
ched.
She couldn’t get enough of him: the thrill of his body sliding over hers, the magic of his hands on her skin, the fiery caress of his mouth that brought sharp cries from deep in her throat.
He brought her swiftly to a climax, then lay back while she enjoyed tormenting his body with her own brand of sensuous touch.
When he reached for her, urgent and demanding, she was ready for him again, and as he raised himself above her, his body damp and quivering with the force of his passion, she lost all sense of time and place. He was hers at last. She had nothing to hide anymore. He loved her as she was, for who she was, and for that, she would give him her soul.
* * *
She awoke early the next morning and took a moment to reassure herself that last night had not been a beautiful dream. She turned her head and found Turner awake, his eyes half-open, watching her.
“Hi, beautiful.” He leaned over and gave her a kiss. “How do you manage to look so wonderful first thing in the morning?”
She laughed. “I think you might be just the tiniest bit prejudiced.” Lifting her arms above her head, she stretched with a murmur of pleasure. “I never thought I’d be waking up in a strange bed this morning.”
“With a strange man?”
She rolled onto her side and studied him. “Nah. I think I’ve seen you before somewhere.”
“I would hope so. I wouldn’t think a lady like you would make a habit of waking up in a strange man’s bed.”
“Not on your life.”
He looked serious again. “To be honest, I wasn’t at all sure you’d be waking up in mine.”
“You weren’t?” She lifted a hand and smoothed his hair from his brow. “You seemed pretty sure of yourself to me.”
She rolled onto her back again. “I didn’t think I would ever hear from you again. I thought I’d hurt you too much.”
He sighed and laid an arm across her waist, pulling her close. “Yeah, I admit I was pretty hurt. At first when I thought you were rejecting me because I was broke. And then when you told me you’d let me go on thinking that because you didn’t trust me to understand.”
She covered his forearm with her fingers, enjoying the feeling of hard muscle beneath the soft hairs on his skin. “I’m sorry, Turner. But it was something that had been with me most of my life. It wasn’t just you.”
Where There's Smoke Page 22