by Susan Tracy
Leigh caught her breath. Her heart was beating erratically and she knew it wasn't entirely due to the view or the exertion of the climb. She was overwhelmingly conscious of the man by her side, especially so when his arm came around her shoulders and his head came down close to hers as he pointed out a landmark, a tiny log hut way down in the very pit of the valley.
Suddenly Leigh wanted to know—needed to know—what she meant to Jason. How did the two of them fit into this universe around them? Did he care for her at all or was she just another combination of flesh and bones to him?
She brushed away the strand of hair a fresh wind had blown in her face and tilted her head back to see him clearly. She did not pause to consider the wisdom of asking the question on her lips because if she did, she would never ask it.
"Jason," she said almost desperately, "if I decided not to stay with you, but to go back to New York, would you care? I mean, really care? Would it matter more than just in passing?"
Would the earth stop moving for you if I went, her heart was asking. Would you feel it, down so deep that the pain would be unendurable? Do you care at all?
Their eyes caught and held for brief seconds before his lids came down to conceal his thoughts from her. An enigmatic expression slid over his face.
"That's something you have to work out for yourself, Leigh, if you haven't already," he answered slowly, but with finality.
He took a step back, away from her, as if to cut off any physical contact between them.
"Don't ask me to help you make your decision. It's entirely up to you. I don't want to take the responsibility if you're going to get cold feet at the last minute. I want you, but only if you know exactly what you're doing." The words were cold and harsh.
A tight iron band seemed to wrap itself around Leigh's heart. She stood and stared at him, her soft lips slightly parted in consternation. He was forcing her to make her decision in a void. He wasn't going to give anything of himself away. He had been hurt badly in the past, she knew, and apparently he wasn't going to take a chance now. Sadly, she faced the truth. If he could be so rational about it, then his feelings could not be involved.
Well, so be it, she told herself philosophically. What had she expected anyway? A strong declaration of undying love! Hah! Not from Jason Randall. Never in a million years!
With a lift of her chin, Leigh squared her shoulders. She wasn't giving up. She'd just have to work things out on her own.
Summoning a jaunty grin, she suggested to Jason that they try out the view from another spot, across the hilltop from where they now stood.
The journey down the hill was completed much more quickly than the trip up, and almost completely without conversation. They were each occupied with their own thoughts.
They had a splendid lunch, one that had Leigh vowing not to eat again all day. She just couldn't turn down the succulent smoke-cured ham, with its distinctive salty taste, or the golden yams, floating in a rich brown sugar sauce. However, she did virtuously draw the line at dessert.
The atmosphere between Jason and her had reverted back to easy teasing, due largely to Leigh's efforts not to let the conversation on the hilltop get her down. Jason was rather quiet, but not forbiddingly so.
After so much food, they decided to spend the rest of the day lazing by the pool. Jason did halfheartedly suggest a game of tennis, from which Leigh prudently begged off until Sunday.
She went upstairs to rummage in her suitcase for the bikini Jason had bought her in Harrellsville. She pulled it distastefully out. As much as she would prefer not to appear in this skimpy excuse for a bathing suit, she had no choice since she had no other with her. With a shudder, she put it on, but studiously avoided looking in the mirror. She already knew that the amount of skin it exposed was a millimeter short of indecent, the slinky green fabric molding her softly rounded hips and swelling breasts. She tightened the minute straps that held the three triangles together and muttered a prayer that the thing wouldn't come apart in the water. Thank goodness for her terry cloth wrap. With her hair caught up in a topknot and her feet encased in sandals, she picked up a towel and made her way to the pool area.
She stood uncertainly at the entrance and looked around. The patio was not crowded. The overcast day had played its part in keeping guests away, Leigh guessed. Right now the sun had decided to shine, and in clear view, the heated pool was a dappled oval, the pure azure color that only the Mediterranean Sea can naturally aspire to. The water glittered and sparkled as the sun skimmed over it.
Spotting Jason stretched out on a redwood lounger on the far side of the pool, she went across. In black swimming trunks, he emanated a strong aura of virile masculinity, not a spare ounce of flesh on his lean, hard body.
He lazily watched Leigh's approach, smiling in approval when she dropped her things onto the bright blue cushions of the lounger next to his and slipped off her wrap.
"You have a terrific body," he whispered, arching a brow at her.
Caught in the midst of kicking off her sandals, Leigh straightened slowly. "You're not so bad yourself," she answered coolly, sauntering off to the diving board. She executed a perfect half-gainer and surfaced to set off in a rapid crawl stroke for the opposite end of the pool. The heated water felt delicious, sliding over her skin like purest silk. She flipped over on her back and floated contentedly, counting the now fluffy white clouds above that looked like thick blobs of whipped cream in a bowl of blue. What bliss, she sighed. If one could only float as easily through life.
When Leigh reached the shallow end of the pool, she jackknifed around and headed back the way she had come. Suddenly the gentle cradle of the water turned hostile as strong arms grasped her around the middle and she was pulled under before she knew what was happening. She surfaced, spluttering, to find herself wrapped securely in Jason's viselike grip.
Ignoring her struggles, he pulled her head forward and put his mouth to hers while they slowly drifted, as if in slow motion, toward the bottom of the pool, until a push by his strong legs propelled them again to the top. Leigh realized that she had been so besotted by the kiss that she probably would have stayed on the bottom without his help, unable to think straight enough to move. Jason had that effect on her.
They swam together for a while in probably the most lighthearted time they had ever had together until tiredness caused Leigh to climb out. She made her way, dripping, over to the lounger and flopped down on its thick cushions to sit and admire Jason's expert thrust through the water, his arms lifting and falling in precise regularity in a symmetrical backstroke. Then, she adjusted the lounger to a flat position and rolled over on her stomach to let the warmth of the sun soak into her body. Within minutes she was fast asleep.
She woke to a cooling breeze blowing across her shoulders and a warm, tingly sensation down her spine. With a sigh of well-being, she snuggled further into the blue cushion and threw one arm above her head, until, more alert, she realized what was causing the delicious tingle. Someone was giving her a massage.
She rolled over and then wished she hadn't. Jason was sitting beside her on the edge of the lounger, very much at his ease, with a tube of suntan ointment in his hand. While she watched open-mouthed, he squeezed out a white curl and proceeded to smooth it thoroughly down her arms. Leigh's clear gray eyes widened in disbelief as the sensitive fingers moved on to her midriff and stomach, stroking her golden skin with a frankly sensuous touch.
"What do you think you're doing?" she hissed, aware of the people who reclined on lounge chairs within hearing distance.
Nonchalantly squirting out another blob of the cream, Jason rubbed it onto her legs before he answered innocently. "Simply keeping that fair skin from burning." Leigh had not missed the quick rush of desire in his eyes.
"Er, thank you," she choked out. "But I think that's enough for now."
"Is it?" he asked, all too aware of the sensations he was provoking.
"Oh, definitely enough," Leigh said and she sat up. Her insides
were churning and she was having trouble breathing. One touch of Jason's hands and all her longing was clamoring inside her, bursting to be released. And she knew what form that release would take, herself in his arms.
Leigh looked at the sky and stood up.
"It's getting late. I must have slept for quite a while." She turned back to Jason who had returned to his own lounger.
"I think I'll go in and wash off the chlorine." She brushed a hand nervously, at her almost dry topknot and pulled on her wrap.
Jason accompanied her as far as the special elevator that was specifically for guests who used the pool and punched the up button.
"I'm going to have another swim," he said. "Why don't we meet in the bar at," he consulted his gold watch, "about eight. How's that?"
It was fine. It gave Leigh plenty of time, not only to have a long, leisurely soak in the tub and dress, but to get her wayward emotions under control.
The one outfit that was appropriate for evening that she had packed was the white gown, the one that Jason had said made her look like an ice maiden. Leigh certainly didn't feel like she was made of ice when she was around Jason. Certainly not ice. Flame was more likely. He touched her and she ignited. It was too bad she didn't have a red dress, she told herself humorously.
She smoothed the soft silk of the gown over her hips and turned around to peer across her shoulder into the mirror to see the back. The halter neck and low cut of the gown left most of her tanned shoulders bare. Aware that nights could get chilly here in the mountains, Leigh looked into her suitcase for the filmy square of white silk that matched the dress, just in case she needed a wrap.
In an effort to dispel the ice image, she used a bit more makeup than usual, a violet shadow to deepen the color of her eyes, a warm pink lip gloss for her mouth and added blusher for her cheeks. She had washed her hair that afternoon so she left it swinging in a smooth curtain of molten silver to her shoulders. Her hair had grown longer since she had been at the farm, Leigh noticed, giving it a last stroke with the brush.
She slipped on ridiculously high-heeled black sandals, also from the boutique in Harrellsville, and after a search, located her evening bag. It was with a feeling of confidence that she looked her best that Leigh sailed forth to meet Jason.
The cocktail lounge was discreetly lit, its interior a mixture of tables and chairs, low banquettes upholstered in red leather and tall stools at the bar, also cushioned in red. The room was fairly crowded, but it took Leigh only a moment to find Jason. To her eyes, he was easily the most distinguished-looking man there. She stood and gazed her fill at him before he saw her. The dark dinner jacket he wore fitted his lithe, lean form like a glove, and the formal white shirt showed off to best advantage a tan not acquired by sitting in an office.
He was seated at the bar, But at her approach, he slid off the stool and came over to meet her, his eyes widening in admiration at the sight of her.
"You've spent a profitable few hours, I see," he murmured, his intent regard not wavering.
"Do you approve?" She pirouetted slightly before him, a feeling of happiness at simply being with him welling up inside.
For an answer he took her elbow and guided her to a small round table at the side of the room. After he had given their order to the hovering waiter, he turned to her.
"I would never have thought that perfection could be improved on." he said in a voice that was warm and intimate and caressing. "You are very, very beautiful."
Leigh was speechless at the compliment.
He leaned closer to whisper into her ear, his breath warm and sensuous on her cheek.
"You do realize, don't you, that you've made it impossible for me to concentrate on my dinner." Small dark flames lit his eyes. "And they serve such good food here, too," he added.
Leigh sparkled with laughter. He was courting her again and she didn't possess the power to resist him.
The waiter appeared with their champagne cocktails in tall tulip-shaped glasses. Jason handed one to Leigh and they drank. They didn't talk, but sat, shoulder to shoulder, in silent accord.
Leigh glanced around the bar, which held mostly men, well-dressed and successful-looking, all carrying on busy conversations to the clink of ice in glasses. None of them could hold a candle to Jason, she thought, returning her gaze to his.
"What are you thinking about so seriously?" she asked him. She felt dizzy, euphoric. The wine must have gone to her head.
He smiled his special heart-stopping smile. "I was sitting here hoping that no one in this room can read minds because what I'm thinking about you right now definitely isn't for publication. Although from the envious looks I'm getting in return, every man here has similar designs on you."
With a gentle finger he touched a cheek that had turned a delicate pink and then signaled the waiter for two more drinks.
"Have there been many men in your life, Leigh?" he asked softly.
She shook her head. "No, not really. Just friends, nothing serious."
"Why? The men in New York City can't all be blind."
Leigh shifted uncomfortably in her chair and looked across the dimly lit room, now filling up even more as the dinner hour approached.
"I've been too busy working, I guess. Contrary to popular belief, all models don't run around till the early hours. Late nights and rich foods can play havoc with a girl's complexion and figure, to say nothing of schedules that don't allow much time for wild carousing."
"So your career is all important," he mused. "Is it? Does it fulfill all your desires?" The questions came at her pointblank.
"No, of course not." Leigh rubbed her moist palms together while the waiter set fresh cocktails before them. She didn't want this inquisition, but if they were going to let down their hair, she had a few questions of her own that she'd like answered.
"What about you?" she asked quickly before Jason had a chance to speak. "Is business your be-all and end-all?"
His eyes bored into hers, his look intense and probing. "I'd like a family to share it with some day, Leigh," he said bluntly, "like any normal, healthy man. I don't like living alone." The words rang out like a challenge, perhaps an indictment of her for denying him five years ago.
Leigh's glance dropped to the table, the old pain engulfing her.
"Jason," she faltered, "do you think we could ever forget the bitterness of the past and just be two people, oh, without old antagonisms that get in the way?" She kept her face averted until she was sure she could safely look at him without the longing showing plainly in her face.
"That is the question, isn't it," he said soberly. "Yes. I believe we can start over. That's what I want, Leigh."
After what seemed an eternity, he raised his glass to hers. "To our future," he said as the fluted goblets touched.
Heads turned when they crossed the dining room to their table, such a striking couple they made, the tall, dark man a perfect foil for the ethereal beauty of the slender blond girl. The ornate dining room was at the top of the hotel, and their table was by a long window that looked down on the valley below, where the lights of numberless houses competed with the stars that twinkled in the fallen dusk. When Leigh had drunk her fill of the scene, she turned to admire the beautifully set table. One long-stemmed yellow rose in a pewter vase sat in the center of the crisp white linen tablecloth, where shadows flickered in the glow of candlelight. The waiter handed her a large menu, but Leigh couldn't concentrate on the printed words and asked Jason to order for her.
A good decision, she found as she listened to him discuss the merits of various white wines with the wine steward before giving the menu his full attention.
"We'll start with escargots bourguignons," he ordered, flicking a warning to Leigh to protest if she had an aversion to snails. "A Caesar salad and the salmon soufflé," he continued.
When the waiter had gone, Jason told Leigh that the Caesar salad was a specialty at this particular restaurant, he had learned.
"As is the salmon. I think
you'll like it."
She did. Shredded salmon enclosed in a shell of featherlight nutmeg-flavored soufflé topped with a cream sauce, it was delectable. Leigh hadn't realized that Jason was so knowledgeable about gourmet dishes, but then, there was a lot she didn't know about him. He was a complex, many-faceted man.
The evening was a memorable one, although Leigh knew that the food alone could not account for that. Jason could, however. They didn't talk much, or at least if they did, Leigh could never quite remember what they said. No words of love passed between them and no embraces. Yet, Jason made love to her as surely as if he had taken her in his arms in the crowded room. His hand touched hers where it lay on the table between them. His eyes caressed her face, and his voice was low and seductive when he leaned close to whisper in her ear. Leigh was happier than she had dreamed possible, her cheeks tinted a wild rose, her eyes a cloudy mauve, and she no longer bothered to hide what she felt from Jason. He had given her a special evening that she would remember all her life.
For her decision was made. It was not consciously arrived at, she realized, but a culmination of all the things she had learned about Jason and about herself in the past few weeks. She loved him. It wasn't just a strong physical attraction as she had thought at first. Jason was a man she would walk over broken glass for. The past had ceased to matter. He wanted her and that was all she needed to know. Her doubts had vanished in the wave of pure love that swept over her. He needed her and whatever he asked, she would willingly give. The pleasure of giving would be enough. That he had asked her, without love on his part, to resume the marriage, she now had the strength to deal with. And she would make him happy, or perish in the attempt, she told herself. Oh, she didn't kid herself that it would be easy. Jason was a demanding, overbearing, sometimes ruthless man, and she would have to bear the brunt of it. But he could be tender, too, and she would teach him to be loving. He felt something for her, and even if it was only desire, it could grow. As he had said, they could make it work.