Drawing a deep, quivering breath, she tore her gaze away just as Frankie came up beside her. She wore one of Elizabeth’s designs, too, a metallic satin sheath that draped her lush curves like liquid silver. She’d pulled her dark hair back and rimmed her gray eyes with kohl, giving them an exotic tilt at the corners.
“There you are,” she said to Elizabeth. “I wondered if you were going to make it.” She glanced past Elizabeth and nodded. “Hello, Paul.”
He nodded back. “Frankie.”
The greeting was about as cold and perfunctory as Elizabeth could imagine.
“Would you mind if I borrowed Elizabeth for a moment? I need to have a word with her,” Frankie said coolly. “It’s business. You understand, don’t you, Paul?”
Rather than relinquishing his hold on Elizabeth, his grip tightened on her hand. “Can it wait? I’ve been looking forward all day to dancing with my wife.”
Frankie arched a brow as she turned her attention back to Elizabeth. Something that might have been worry—or anger—glinted in her eyes. “This won’t take but a minute, Elizabeth. I really do need to talk to you.”
“If it’s business, perhaps it could wait until we get back to the shop on Tuesday,” Elizabeth heard herself murmur.
It obviously wasn’t the answer Frankie had wanted or expected. She shrugged, but her expression hardened. “If that’s what you want.”
“I’ll talk to you later, okay?” Elizabeth said over her shoulder as she allowed Paul to lead her onto the dance floor. She didn’t like putting Frankie off. They’d been partners and friends for years, and Frankie had always been someone she could count on. But this animosity toward Paul…where had it come from?
She’d have a long talk with Frankie when they got back on Tuesday, Elizabeth decided. Maybe it was time she and her partner cleared the air about a few things. And maybe while they were at it, they needed to set some boundaries. Elizabeth had always confided freely in her friend, but she wondered now if she’d been a little too open about her personal life.
The moment Paul took her in his arms, however, Elizabeth forgot about Frankie. She forgot about everything except the feel of her husband’s hand on her bare back, the brush of his cheek against hers, the whisper of his breath in her ear.
They were waltzing, Elizabeth realized as they swirled and glided over the dance floor. She didn’t even know she could waltz. But she shouldn’t have been surprised that she was able to follow Paul’s lead. He’d always been a good dancer. He was good at so many things. An elegant, charming man of many talents, not the least of which was his ability to sweep her off her feet after all these years.
He pulled her even closer, and Elizabeth’s heart began to hammer as the tempo increased. The hall had seemed chilly before, but now she grew heated and dizzy as dancers spun in a blur all around them. An awful uneasiness came over her. Something wasn’t right about all this. She shouldn’t be here. Not with Paul. She wanted to push him away suddenly, but she didn’t know why.
And then she saw him.
Roland Latimer stood outside one of the arched windows, his expression dark and angry as he watched Elizabeth and Paul sweep past him.
Elizabeth wanted to say something to Paul, but she couldn’t seem to find her voice. Her heart was beating too fast. What if Latimer disappeared, as he had earlier outside her bedroom window? What if he…wasn’t real?
As their gazes met over Paul’s shoulder, Latimer put out a hand and beckoned to her. When she didn’t respond, he pressed his long, pale fingers to the window, and Elizabeth could have sworn she felt his cold touch at the back of her neck.
She stumbled, but Paul caught her easily. “Are you okay?”
She looked past him to the window.
No one was there.
“Elizabeth?”
Her gaze darted back to Paul. “I feel a little light-headed,” she murmured. “Maybe I’ve had enough dancing for one night.”
“We’ll sit this one out then.” Paul took her elbow and led her from the floor. “Would you like something to drink? Some punch or champagne?”
“No champagne.” She was already seeing things. She certainly didn’t need alcohol to diminish what remained of her faculties.
“Some punch then. I’ll be right back.”
Elizabeth nodded. She couldn’t seem to shake her uneasiness. She didn’t know what had happened to her on the dance floor, but she was certain her dizziness had something to do with Roland Latimer. His sudden appearance had scared her even though she wasn’t even sure that he was real. And that prospect frightened her even more.
He had to be real, though, because she’d talked to him the evening before. He’d touched her hand.
But how could a flesh-and-blood man just disappear?
It made no sense. Unless, of course, she was going crazy. A conclusion that wasn’t as farfetched as Elizabeth would have liked.
While she waited for Paul, she walked over to the window to peer out. She could see nothing on the terrace but mist and shadows.
Lifting her hand, she pressed her fingertips to the window. She expected the glass to be cold to her touch, but instead it was warm, like human flesh.
She started and whirled when someone tapped her shoulder.
“Sorry,” Frankie said with a weak smile. “I didn’t mean to startle you.” She nodded toward the window. “What are you looking at?” she asked curiously.
“I…thought I saw someone out there,” Elizabeth murmured.
“Who?”
She hesitated. “Someone I met here last night. The man you saw me talking to on the terrace.”
Frankie frowned. “I told you, I didn’t see anyone with you last night. I thought you were talking to yourself.”
Perhaps she had been, Elizabeth thought uneasily. “What did you want to see me about earlier?”
“You said you wanted to wait until we get back to Se attle,” Frankie said a bit peevishly. “I wouldn’t want to interrupt your vacation with shop talk.”
“This isn’t a vacation,” Elizabeth hastened to remind her.
Frankie cocked her head. “No? You could have fooled me, the way you and Paul are acting so lovey-dovey all of a sudden. What’s going on, Elizabeth? Are you two back together?”
“We’re not back together. But things are a bit…confusing,” Elizabeth admitted.
Frankie’s scowl deepened. “In what way?”
“I don’t know. Sometimes I wonder…” Elizabeth trailed off and glanced out the window.
“You wonder what?”
She shrugged. How could she explain her conflicting emotions about Paul when she didn’t understand them herself? How could she admit that she suddenly felt she might be losing control again when she’d spent the past few months trying to convince everyone she was well?
“Lizzy, what’s wrong?” Frankie asked worriedly.
Elizabeth turned. “Nothing. I’m just a little tired, that’s all.”
Frankie gave her a reproachful look. “We’ve been friends and partners for nearly ten years. Sometimes I think I know you better than I know myself. Is Paul pressuring you to reconcile?” When Elizabeth didn’t respond, Frankie’s eyes glittered angrily. “I thought it had to be something like that. Don’t let him do this to you.”
“You don’t understand—”
Frankie shoved back a stray lock of hair. “Oh, I understand, all right. Paul is a very persuasive man and the two of you have a lot of history. But need I remind you that a week ago you were all set to divorce him as soon as you returned to Seattle? You had reasons for wanting to start a new life, Elizabeth, and those reasons are still valid.”
“I know that.”
“So you’re still going through with the divorce?”
Elizabeth glanced away, suddenly unable to meet Frankie’s accusing eyes. Which was ridiculous. Why should she feel guilty about having second thoughts?
“I don’t know what I’m going to do,” she finally said.
Frank
ie sighed and folded her arms across her chest. “I was afraid of something like this when you agreed to come up here with him. I should have said something before we left Seattle, but I was hoping…” She paused. “I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this.”
Elizabeth’s pulse quickened at the look on Frankie’s face. “Come to what? What are you talking about?”
Frankie glanced around, as if making certain she wouldn’t be overheard. “I found out something. I wasn’t going to tell you, but under the circumstances, I think you have a right to know.” She put her hand on Elizabeth’s arm. “It’s about Paul.”
Elizabeth’s heart beat painfully against her chest. “What about him?”
“Evidently he’s in some kind of trouble at work.”
Elizabeth didn’t believe that for a moment. Paul was a brilliant businessman. She couldn’t imagine anyone being dissatisfied with his performance. “What kind of trouble?”
Frankie glanced around again before she answered. “I have an acquaintance who works at Paul’s firm. She said that he’s not exactly on the best of terms with the other partners. A couple of major deals he put together have fallen through in the past year, and he invested a lot of his own money in both projects. When they didn’t pan out, he lost a small fortune. I can’t help thinking that now would not exactly be the best time for him to have to pony up money in a divorce settlement.”
Elizabeth didn’t want to listen to Frankie’s accusations, but she couldn’t bring herself to walk away. She had to hear the rest even if she didn’t believe a word of it. “Where did you hear this?”
“I told you, I know someone who works at Paul’s firm.”
“Who? Give me a name.”
“I can’t do that. I promised I wouldn’t say anything and I don’t want to get anyone in trouble for carrying tales away from the office. But what if it’s true? Think about it, Lizzy.” Frankie bit her lip. “Did Paul show even the slightest bit of interest in rekindling your relationship until you wanted out? He was perfectly happy to go along with the way things were until he figured out how much a divorce would cost him.”
“You don’t know that,” Elizabeth said coldly. “You don’t like him for some reason and so you’re willing to think the worst of him.”
“That’s not true. I never had anything against him until…” Frankie’s gaze shifted away from Elizabeth’s.
“Until what?” Elizabeth pressed.
“How can you just forget about her?”
“You mean Nina Wilson?” Elizabeth hadn’t forgotten about Nina Wilson. Not for a moment. “It’s not what you think, Frankie.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because Paul told me there’s nothing between them, and I believe him.”
“Because you want to believe him,” Frankie accused. “You’ve always had a blind spot where he’s concerned.”
Elizabeth’s voice hardened with anger. “He’s still my husband. If I choose to believe him, that’s my business.”
“And I’m supposed to just keep my mouth shut and let you get taken for a ride? I’m sorry, but I can’t do that. He’s lying to you, Lizzy. Why can’t you see that?”
“And why can’t you see that this is none of your business?” Elizabeth said bluntly.
Frankie looked crushed by the rebuke. Then she shrugged. “Fine, if that’s the way you want it. I’ll stay out of it. But answer one question for me. If there’s nothing between Paul and Nina Wilson, why is it he can’t seem to stay away from her?”
She turned and stalked off, and as Elizabeth watched her disappear into the crowd, she suddenly felt bereft. She was still angry at Frankie for her insinuations and interference, but they’d been close for a long time. She didn’t want to lose Frankie’s friendship.
How had it come to this? Elizabeth wondered in despair. How had she allowed herself to become so isolated, first from her husband and now from her best friend?
The answer was obvious, of course. Since Damon’s death she’d merely been drifting from one day to the next while life had gone on for everyone else. It was as if she’d just awakened from a Rip Van Winkle-type sleep and now she had to face the terrible realization that she no longer knew the people who had once been closest to her.
Elizabeth suddenly felt very lost. She started to go after Frankie, but then she froze as the crowd parted slightly and she caught a glimpse of Nina Wilson.
Even from across the room Elizabeth could see that her red hair was askew and one of the thin straps of her gown had slipped down her arm.
She had the look of a woman freshly returned from a tryst with her lover, and a moment later Paul stepped into the room behind her.
Chapter Ten
Elizabeth stood shivering on the terrace. She hadn’t taken the time to grab a wrap, but instead had rushed through the nearest French doors, unable to face the sight of Paul and Nina Wilson together.
She couldn’t forget what Frankie had asked her only moments earlier. If there’s nothing between Paul and Nina Wilson, why is it he can’t seem to stay away from her?
Deep down Elizabeth knew that she was jumping to conclusions. After she’d defended her husband so fiercely to Frankie, she should have had the guts to walk across the room and confront him openly with her suspicions.
But she hadn’t been able to do it. She hadn’t been able to do anything except run away. And that reaction probably spoke more to her emotional state than it did to Paul’s fidelity. Her willingness, even for one brief moment, to assume the worst of him should have told her all she needed to know about a possible reconciliation. If she couldn’t bring herself to trust him—was unable to take him at his word—what chance did their marriage have?
Besides, it was easier this way, wasn’t it? Easier to just keep drifting than to fight her way back to him. To wake up and live again. To love again. To endure pain again.
In some ways, seeing Paul with Nina had almost been a relief.
Restless with her thoughts, Elizabeth walked over to the edge of the terrace and stared into the darkness. Beyond the man-made swimming pool was a series of smaller natural pools fed by the underground hot springs for which the original hotel had been famous. The architect had painstakingly incorporated the pools into the natural landscaping, giving them each a private, woodsy setting.
Elizabeth heard the faint sound of laughter from one of the pools, and she wondered if a couple of the guests had stolen away from the dance to go skinny-dipping by moonlight. She and Paul had done that once in Jamaica. Stripped off all their clothes on a moonlit beach and run laughing into the water. Elizabeth couldn’t imagine doing that now. She couldn’t imagine feeling that free and unencumbered.
She hadn’t realized that she was crying until she felt a tear trickle down her cheek. She lifted a hand to wipe it away.
“Elizabeth…”
Her name was barely a whisper. A trick of the wind, she thought.
But then it came again. More demanding this time.
“Elizabeth…”
The blood in her veins turned to ice. Everything inside her stilled as she slowly turned.
She saw nothing at first. And then, just as he had the night before, he seemed to materialize from the mist.
He stood before her, a dark, commanding figure with no more substance than a shadow.
Elizabeth’s heart pounded as he walked toward her. He moved with a peculiar ease and grace that almost made him appear to float. But that was impossible.
Or was it?
Maybe he wasn’t real, after all. Maybe her subconscious had conjured him from the mist and shadows, but for what reason, Elizabeth had no idea.
Real or not, she wanted to turn and run from him, but she couldn’t move. She stood paralyzed, unable to tear her gaze from his.
It was his eyes, she realized with a punch of panic. They were hypnotic. Mesmerizing. So black and piercing, she had a feeling they could penetrate her very soul.
“Don’t be afraid of me,” he said in th
at whispery, dark voice.
She was terrified, but she was also drawn to him in a way she couldn’t explain.
Elizabeth closed her eyes. When she opened them, he was still there, and she started to tremble as the dread inside her deepened. “Who are you? Why are you following me?”
He was even larger than she remembered. Daunting and formidable, his aristocratic features might have been chiseled from pale granite. “You’ve come,” he said. “At long last, you’ve come back to me. I’ve been waiting so long….”
She put a nervous hand to her throat. “What are you talking about? You don’t even know me.” Her voice had a strange breathless quality that she hardly recognized as her own.
“That isn’t true, Elizabeth. I know everything about you. Your thoughts are my thoughts. Your pain is my own. I know you…because I’m a part of you.”
Elizabeth gasped. Everything about him frightened her, and yet she couldn’t seem to rip herself free of him.
He moved even closer to her then. When he put up a hand to touch her face, Elizabeth cringed. She wanted to stop him, but she couldn’t. It was as if he’d cast a dark spell over her, and yet she couldn’t shake the notion that this was somehow inevitable. And a part of her wanted to be here with him.
“Remember me?” His fingers brushed along the side of her face, a cool, slippery touch that made her shiver. “Remember me, Elizabeth?”
And suddenly she did. As the image came rushing back, her eyes widened in recognition. “I’ve seen you before. At this very place. You were at the ground-breaking ceremony last year. I…caught you staring at me.”
His gaze deepened. “I knew from the moment I first saw you that we were meant to be together. You belong here with me. That’s why you came back.”
The proprietary note in his voice jarred Elizabeth. Who was he? And why, oh, why couldn’t she break away from him? She had to be dreaming. “I didn’t come here because of you. I came up here with my husband.”
“Your husband.” He gave a dismissive wave of his elegant hand, as if he were shooing away a pesky fly. “He failed you. He isn’t worthy of you.”
The Edge of Eternity Page 11