Strange Bedfellow

by Janet Dailey

  “Considering all Blake has been through, it’s bound to have left a mark on him,” he offered.

  “I know, but…” She sighed, agitated and frustrated because she couldn’t find the words to explain exactly what she meant.

  “Hey, come on now,” Chet cajoled, setting his glass down and grasping her gently by the shoulders, his head bent down to peer into her apprehensive face. “When two people care as much about each other as you and Blake do, they’re bound to work out their differences. It just can’t happen overnight,” he reasoned. “Now come on. What do you say? Let’s have a little smile. You know it’s true that nothing is ever as bad as it seems.”

  Mountains and molehills. Reluctantly almost, her lips curved at his coaxing words. His steadying influence was having its effect on her again.

  “That’s my girl!” he grinned.

  “Oh, Chet,” Dina declared with a laughing sigh, and wrapped her arms lightly around him, taking care not to spill her drink. She hugged him fondly. “What would I do without you?” She drew her head back to gaze at him.

  “I hope neither of us has to find out,” he remarked, and affectionately kissed the top of her nose.

  The knob turned and the library door was pushed open by Blake. At the sight of Dina in Chet’s arms he froze, and the same paralysis gripped her. She paled as she saw his lips thin into an angry line.

  But the violence of his emotion wasn’t detectable in his voice as he remarked casually, “Is this a private party or can anyone join?”

  His question broke the chains holding Dina motionless. She withdrew her arms from around Chet to hold her sherry glass in both hands. Chet turned to greet him, insensitive to the heightening tension in the air.

  “Now that you’re here, Blake, we can drink a toast the last of the newspaper reporters,” he announced in a celebrating tone, not displaying any self-consciousness about the scene Blake had interrupted.

  For a while anyway,” Blake agreed, his gaze swinging to Dina. “What are you drinking?”

  “Sherry.” There would be no explosion now, Dina realize. Blake would wait until they were alone.

  “I’ll have the same.”

  It was late that evening before Chet left. Each dragging minute in the interim honed Dina’s nerves to a razor-thin edge. By the time he had left, she could no longer stand the suspense of waiting for the confrontation with Blake.

  With the revving of Chet’s car coming from the driveway, Dina paused in the foyer to challenge Blake. “Aren’t you going to say it?”

  He didn’t pretend an ignorance of her question, his gaze hard and unrelenting. “Stay away from Chet.”

  All the blame for the innocent encounter was placed on her, and she reacted with indignant outrage. “And what about Chet?”

  “I know Chet well enough to be assured he isn’t going to trespass, unless encouraged, on my territory.”

  “So I’m supposed to avoid him, is that it?” she flashed.

  “Whatever relationship you had with him in my absence is finished,” Blake declared in a frigid tone. “From now on he’s simply an acquaintance of mine. That’s all he is to you.”

  “That’s impossible!” She derided his suggestion that she could dismiss Chet from her life with a snap of her fingers. “I can’t forget all he’s meant to me that easily.”

  A pair of iron clamps dug into the soft flesh of her arms and she was jerked to him, the breath knocked out of her by the hard contact with the solid wall of his chest. Her lips were crushed by the angry fire of his kiss, a kiss that seared his brand of possession on her and burned away any memory of another’s mouth.

  Dina was released from his punishing embrace with equal force. Shaken and unnerved, she retreated a step. With the back of her hand she tried to rub away the fiery imprint of his mouth.

  “You —” she began with impotent rage.

  “Don’t push me, Dina!” Blake warned.

  They glared at each other in thundering silence. Dina had no idea how long the battle of wills would have continued if his mother hadn’t entered the foyer seconds later. Each donned a mask to conceal their personal conflict from her eyes.

  “Deirdre just told me you’d asked her to bring some blankets to the library, Blake.” Norma Chandler was wearing a frown. “You aren’t going to sleep there again tonight, are you?”

  “Yes, I am, mother,” he responded decisively.

  “But it’s so uncivilized,” she protested.

  “Perhaps,” Blake conceded, for an instant meeting Dina’s look. “It’s also infinitely preferable to not sleeping.”

  “I suppose so.” His mother sighed her reluctant agreement. “Good night, dear.”

  “Good night, mother,” he returned, and coldly arched an eyebrow at Dina. “Good night.”

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  Chapter Five

  THE LIBRARY DOOR stood open when Dina came down the stairs the next morning. She smoothed a nervous hand over her cream linen skirt and walked to the dining room where breakfast coffee and juice were already on the table. But there was no sign of Blake. Dina helped herself to juice and coffee and sat down.

  “Isn’t Blake having breakfast this morning?” she questioned the housekeeper when she appeared.

  “No, ma’am,” Deirdre replied. “He’s already left. He said he was meeting Jake Stone for breakfast and going to the office from there. Didn’t he tell you?”

  “Yes, I believe he did,” Dina lied, and forced a smile. “I must have forgotten.”

  “Mrs. Chandler was most upset about it,” the woman remarked with a knowing nod.

  Dina frowned. “Because Blake, is meeting the attorney?”

  “No, because he’s going into the office. Mrs. Chandler thought he should wait a few days. I mean, he just came back and all, and right away he’s going to work,” Deirdre explained.

  “He’s probably anxious to see how everything is.” There was a smug feeling of satisfaction that he would find the entire operation running smoothly knowing that a great deal of the credit was hers.

  “What will you have this morning, Mrs. Blake? Shall I fix you an omelet?”

  “I think I’ll just have juice and coffee, Deirdre, thank you.” She wanted to be at the office when Blake arrived to be able to see his face when he realized how capably she had managed in his absence.

  “As you wish,” the housekeeper sniffed in disapproval.

  The morning traffic seemed heavier than usual and Dina chafed at the delay it caused. Still she arrived at the office building well within her usual time. As she stepped out of the elevator onto the floor the company occupied, she was relieved that Chet had already notified the various executive personnel of Blake’s return and that she was spared that task. She would have time to go over her notes on the departmental meeting this afternoon and have much of the Monday morning routine handled before Blake arrived.

  She breezed down the corridor to her office, keeping her pace brisk while she nodded greetings and returned good mornings to the various employees along the way. She didn’t want to stop and chat with anyone and use up her precious time. She felt very buoyant as she entered the office of her private secretary.

  “Good morning, Amy,” she said cheerfully.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Chandler.” The young woman beamed back a smile. “You’re in good spirits this morning.”

  “Yes, I am,” Dina agreed. Her secretary was going through the morning mail and she walked to her desk to see if there was anything of importance she should know about before Blake arrived.

  “Your good spirits wouldn’t have anything to do with Mr. Chandler’s coming back, would they?” Amy Wentworth inquired with a knowing twinkle. Dina wasn’t obliged to make a comment as her secretary continued, “All of us here are so happy he’s back safely.”

  “So am I, Amy,” Dina nodded, and glanced over the girl’s shoulder for a glimpse at the mail. “Anything special in the mail this morning?”

  “Not so far,” he
r secretary replied, returning her attention to the stack of letters.

  “Any calls?”

  “Only one. Mr. Van Patten called.”

  “Did he leave a message?” Dina asked, her quick perusal of the mail completed.

  “Oh, no,” Amy hastened to explain. “Mr. Chandler took the call.”

  “Mr. Chandler?” she repeated. “Do you mean Blake is already here?”

  “Yes, he’s in the office.” Amy motioned towards Dina’s private office. “I’m sure he won’t mind if you go right on in, Mrs. Chandler.”

  For several seconds Dina was too stunned to speak. It was her office, her pride protested. And her secretary was grandly giving her permission to enter it. Blake had moved in and managed to convey the impression that she had moved out.

  Her blue eyes darkened with rage. Turning on her heel, she walked to the private office. She didn’t bother to knock, simply pushing the door open and walking in. Blake was seated behind the massive walnut desk — her desk! He glanced up when she entered. The arrogantly inquiring lift of his eyebrow lit the fuse of her temper.

  “What are you doing here?” she demanded.

  “I was about to ask you the same question,” countered Blake with infuriating calm.

  “It happens to be my office and that’s my secretary outside!” Dina retorted. Her flashing eyes saw the papers in his hands and she recognized the notes as those she had been going to go over for the departmental meeting that afternoon. “And those are my notes!”

  He leaned back in the swivel chair, viewing her tirade with little emotion. “I was under the impression that all of this —” he waved his hand in an encompassing gesture “— belonged to the company.”

  “I happen to be in charge of the company,” she reminded him.

  “You were in charge of the company,” Blake corrected her. “I’m taking over now.”

  She was trembling violently now, her anger almost uncontrollable. She fought to keep her voice low and not reveal how thoroughly he had aroused her.

  “You’re taking over,” she repeated. “Just like that!” She snapped her fingers.

  “Your job is done.” Blake shrugged and fingered the papers on the desk. “And excellently, from all that I’ve seen this morning.”

  It was the compliment she had sought, but not delivered the way she had intended it to be. Therefore it brought no satisfaction; the thunder was stolen from her glory.

  “And what am I supposed to do?” she demanded.

  “Go home. Go back to being my wife.” His sun-roughened features wore a frown, as if not understanding why she was so upset.

  “And do what?” challenged Dina. “Twiddle my thumbs all day until you come home? Deirdre does all the cooking and the cleaning. It’s your mother’s house, Blake. There’s nothing for me to do there.”

  “Then start looking for an apartment for us. Or better yet, a house of our own,” he suggested. “That’s what you wanted before, a place of our own that you could decorate the way you wanted it.”

  A part of her wanted it still, but it wasn’t the motivating force in her life. “That was before, Blake,” she argued. “I’ve changed. If we did have a house and the decorating was all done the way I wanted it, what would I do then? Sit around and admire my handiwork? No, I enjoy my work here. It’s demanding and fulfilling.”

  He was sitting in the chair, watching her with narrowed eyes. “What you’re saying is you enjoy the power that goes along with it.”

  “I enjoy the power,” Dina admitted without hesitation, a hint of defiance in the tightness of her voice. “I enjoy the challenge and the responsibility, too. Men don’t have a monopoly on those feelings.”

  “What are you suggesting, Dina? That we reverse our roles and I become the house husband? That I find the house, do all the decorating, cleaning and entertaining?”

  “No, I’m not suggesting that.” Confusion was tearing at her. She didn’t know what the solution was.

  “Perhaps you’d like me to take another flight to South America and this time not bother to come back?”

  “No, I wouldn’t — and stop twisting my words!”

  Hot tears flooded her eyes, all the emotional turmoil inside her becoming too much to control. She turned sharply away, blinking frantically at the tears, trying to force them back before Blake saw them.

  There was a warning squeak of the swivel chair as Blake rose and approached her. Her lungs were bursting, but she was afraid to take a breath for fear it would sound like a sob.

  “Is this the way you handle a business disagreement?” he lashed out in impatient accusation.

  Aware that he towered beside her, Dina kept her face averted so he wouldn’t see the watery blue of her eyes. “I don’t know what you mean,” she lied.

  His thumb and fingers clamped on her chin and twisted it around so he could see her face. “Do you usually indulge in a female display of tears when you don’t get your own way?”

  The wall of tears was so solid that Dina could barely see his face. “No,” she retorted pushing at the hand that held her chin. “Do you always attack on a personal level whenever someone doesn’t agree with you wholeheartedly?”

  She heard his long impatient sigh, then his fingers curved to the back of her neck, forcing her head against his chest. An arm encircled her to draw her close. His embrace was strong and warm, but Dina made herself remain indifferent to Blake’s attempt to comfort her. She felt the pressure of his chin resting atop her head.

  “Would you mind telling me what the hell I’m supposed to do about this?” Blake muttered.

  She wiped at the tears with shaking fingers and sniffed, “I don’t know.”

  “Here.” He reached inside his suit jacket to hand her his handkerchief. There was a light rap on the door and Blake stiffened. “Who is it?” he snapped, but the door was already opening.

  Self-consciously Dina tried to twist out of his arms, but they tightened around her as if closing ranks to protect her. She submitted to their hold, her back to the door.

  “Sorry,” she heard Chet apologize with a trace of chagrin. “I guess I’ve gotten used to walking in unannounced.”

  He must have made a move to leave because Blake said, “It’s all right. Come on in, Chet.” Unhurriedly he withdrew his arms from around Dina. “You’ll have to excuse Dina. She still gets emotional once in a while about my return,” he said to explain away her tears and the handkerchief she was using to busily wipe away their traces.

  “That’s understandable,” said Chet, “I came in to let you know everyone’s here. They’re waiting in the meeting room.”

  His statement lifted Dina’s head with a start. “Meeting?” She picked up on the word and frowned. “There isn’t any meeting scheduled on my agenda this morning.”

  “I called it,” Blake announced smoothly, his bland gaze meeting her sharp look. Then he shifted his attention to Chet in a dismissing fashion. “Tell them I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

  “I will.” And Chet left.

  At the click of the closing door, Dina turned roundly on Blake, her anger returning. “You weren’t going to tell me about the meeting, were you?” she accused him.

  Blake walked to the desk and began shuffling through the papers on top of it. “Initially, no. I didn’t see the need to tell you.”

  “You didn’t see the need?” Dina sputtered at his arrogantly dismissive statement.

  “To be truthful, Dina —” he turned to look at her, his bluntly chiseled features seeming to be carved out of teakwood “— it didn’t occur to me that you would come into the office today.”

  “Why ever not?” She stared at him in confusion and disbelief.

  “I assumed you would be glad, if not grateful, to relinquish charge of’ the company to me. I thought you saw yourself as a stopgap president and would relish being free of the burdens of responsibility. I thought you would be happy to resume the role of a homemaker.”

  “You obviously don’t know m
e very well,” Dina retorted.

  “So I’m beginning to discover,” Blake responded grimly.

  “What now?” she challenged him.

  “No man likes to compete with his wife for a job, and I have no intention of doing so with you,” he stated.

  “Why not?” Dina argued. “If I’m equally competent —”

  “But you are not,” Blake interrupted, his eyes turning into dark chips of ironstone.

  “I am.” Surely she had proven that.

  He ignored the assertion. “In the first place, our age difference alone gives me fourteen more years of experience in the business than you. Secondly, my father put me to work as a busboy when I was fifteen. Later I was a porter, a desk clerk, a cook, a manager. Compared to mine, your qualifications are negligible.”

  His logic deflated her balloon of pride. He made her seem like a fool, a child protesting because a toy was taken away. Dina had learned how to disguise her feelings and she used the skill to her advantage.

  “You’re probably quite right,” she said stiffly. “I’d forgotten how much of a figurehead I was. Chet did the actual running of the company.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous!” Blake dismissed the statement with a contemptuous jeer. “Chet is incapable of making an important decision.”

  Her eyes widened at the accusation. “How can you say that? He’s been so loyal to you all these years, your best friend.”

  The lashing flick of his gaze laughed at her reference to Chet’s loyalty, reminding her of Chet’s engagement to her, but he made no mention of it when he spoke. “Just because he’s been my friend doesn’t mean I’m blind to his faults.”

  Although puzzled, Dina didn’t pursue the topic. It was dangerous ground, likely to turn the conversation to a more personal level. At the moment, she wanted to keep it on business.

  “None of that really matters. It still all comes down to the same basic thing — I’m out and you’re in.”

  Blake raked a hand through his hair, rumpling it into attractive disorder. “What am I supposed to do, Dina?” he demanded impatiently.

  “That’s up to you,” she shrugged, feigning cold indifference while every part of her rebelled at the emptiness entering her life. “If you don’t object to my borrowing your secretary, a letter formally tendering my resignation will be on your desk when you return from your meeting.”