Concerned, Leigh moved closer. “Do you have a fever? Your eyes are glittering.” She touched his forehead. “Knut! You're burning up!"
"No, I'm not!” He grabbed her hand and held it between his. “You're imagining things. And my eyes are glittering because I'm excited about the 90-meter jump. I want to see Norway win another medal."
Unconvinced, Leigh stared at him. Knut sighed and pulled her into his arms. “Stop worrying. I feel fine.” He kissed her forehead and then gently pushed her away. “Now, go get your make-up on. I'm going down to the restaurant to secure us a table. You can meet me down there when you're ready. And don't take too long. I have a surprise for you."
Thirty-five minutes later, Leigh stepped out of the elevator and headed toward the entrance of the hotel's restaurant. The attractive young woman at the hostess desk smiled at her. “One for breakfast, madam?"
Leigh scanned the room for Knut. “Thanks, but I see my party...” He was seated at a table near the window and appeared to be in an animated conversation with someone across from him. Leigh couldn't see who it was because her view was obscured by a potted plant. So typical of Knut. He made friends everywhere he went. Smiling, she threaded her way between the other diners toward his table. When she reached it, her smile froze as her eyes fixed upon Knut's companion.
It was Mags Haukeland.
* * * *
As if she were in slow motion, Leigh turned to escape, but before she could move, Knut looked up and saw her. Mags followed his gaze and a light of recognition blazed in his blue eyes. His expression changed to puzzlement as he glanced back at Knut.
Knut smiled. “Here she is now. Didn't I tell you she would be the most beautiful woman in the room? Leigh! Here's my surprise!"
Trembling, Leigh sat down in the chair Knut pulled out for her. She felt light-headed and her stomach churned with anxiety.
"I'd like you to meet Magne Haukeland, the ski-jumper who won the gold medal yesterday."
Leigh smiled weakly at Mags who nodded and peered speculatively at her.
"I met him at the medal presentations last night,” Knut said. “And invited him to join us for breakfast."
The waiter arrived and filled Leigh's coffee cup. She waited until he moved around the table to refill Mags’ cup before speaking, “You should've prepared me, Knut. I would've taken more care with my appearance."
"You look great,” Mags said. “Knut tells me you had a headache last night. I hope you're feeling better."
Leigh looked at him and for the first time, their eyes met. She felt a momentary wave of relief. He wasn't going to say anything. Intuitively, he'd realized she didn't want Knut to know they'd met before. “Thank you. Some Tylenol and an early night took care of it. Congratulations on your medal. I guess Knut told you we were rooting for you."
Mags grinned. “Oh, ja. It's wonderful to know we Norwegians have some American support."
"Now, wait a minute,” Knut said. “I haven't given up my Norwegian citizenship just because I live in the states.” He gave a short laugh that suddenly turned into a cough. He rummaged in his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief. A moment later, he drew it away from his mouth, the spasm under control. But his face wore a grimace of pain.
Leigh leaned toward him. “Knut, are you okay?"
His hand tugged at the neck of his sweater. “Ja,” he said. “Just a little twinge in my chest. I think I pulled something with this damn cough. Ah, here's our food. Leigh, I ordered your usual. Swiss cheese omelet and bacon."
Leigh sat silently, nibbling halfheartedly at her omelet as Knut and Mags discussed ski-jumping, her mind a jumble of disconnected thoughts. What would Mags tell Erik? And if he learned she was here in Albertville, what would he do? Nothing, most likely. After all, he'd left her in Norway without even a goodbye. What made her think everything would be different here? Their situation hadn't changed, except that Erik was probably married, and she and Knut were as good as. Somehow, she had to convince Mags not to tell Erik he'd seen her. But how to get him alone?
The breakfast dishes were cleared away and the waiter refilled their coffee cups. “Well, of course, I'm going to do my best on the 90-meter,” Mags said. “But the 70 seems to be my strong suit. Then, there's the 90-meter team jump. I think we can pull out another medal there."
"Excuse me,” Knut said abruptly and stood up. “You two finish your coffee. I'll be right back."
Leigh's eyes followed him as he headed toward the men's restroom. He didn't look well.
"Kayleigh?"
Her heart lurched at Mag's use of her real name. She looked back at him.
"I'm sorry if my presence caused you to be uncomfortable."
"It's not your fault, Mags.” His nickname slipped out easily. “It's just that Knut doesn't know..."
"About you and Erik?” he said quietly.
Her eyes flashed up to him. “You know?"
He nodded. “Erik told me. He loved you very much, you know."
Leigh blinked back sudden tears. “I know he's here,” she said softly. “Is Margit with him?"
"Ja, she's here. Kayleigh, look, Erik has changed since he married Margit. He's morose and distant these days. I don't think he's happy with her."
Leigh shook her head and with her napkin, began to jerkily dab at a coffee stain on the linen tablecloth. “I'm sorry to hear that. After the way he left me, I thought ... oh, forget it.” She looked up at him. “Mags, don't tell him you saw me. It won't do any of us any good."
"Here comes Knut,” Mags said.
"Oh, sorry about that!” Knut sat back down. “A bit of indigestion, I'm afraid."
"Are you sure you feel like going to the competition?” Leigh asked.
"Wouldn't miss it,” Knut said, taking a sip of ice water.
Mags looked at his crimson Swatch watch. “I've got to get going myself. The coach wants us there by ten-thirty."
Knut leaned toward him. “Need a ride? We've rented a car for the week."
"No, thanks.” Mags grinned. “A few young ladies on the Canadian Alpine team are giving me a lift."
Leigh looked him straight in the eye. “It was great meeting you, Magne. Good luck on the jump today.” Please don't tell Erik.
His expression was noncommittal. He smiled, shook their hands, and sauntered out of the restaurant, a picture of the confident young Olympic athlete.
A few minutes later, Knut and Leigh made their way into the lobby of the hotel. “Why don't you wait for me here?” he said. “I'll go up and get the binoculars and our coats."
When fifteen minutes passed and Knut still hadn't returned to the lobby, Leigh entered the elevator to go up and find out what was keeping him. She stepped out into the hallway and saw that their door was open. What on earth was he doing?
"Knut?” She strode through the door. The room was empty. She moved over toward the open bathroom door. “Knut?” She stopped short. “Oh, my God!"
Knut lay on the bathroom floor, his hands clawing helplessly at his chest. Strangled gurgling sounds came from his throat; his face was a gruesome shade of blue. Leigh whirled around and stumbled toward the phone on the bedside table. “Oh, dear God, please answer!” Her voice rose. “Yes! This is ... oh Jesus, what room am I in?” Then, she saw the room number on the phone. “Room 714. I need an ambulance. My husband has had a heart attack. Please hurry...” She dropped the phone and ran back into the bathroom to Knut.
Chapter 32
Erik saw Mags beckon to him from the ski lift area. He waved back and threaded his way through the crowd toward him. Masses had turned out for the 90-meter jump and it was next to impossible to walk anywhere without a struggle. Finally, Erik reached his brother's side.
"Christ! What took you so long to get here?” Mags said. “I haven't much time."
"Traffic,” Erik said. “Margit told me you called while I was in the shower. What's up?"
"Something big. You'll think it is, anyway.” Mags paused and made sure he had Erik's full attention. �
��Kayleigh's here in Albertville."
Erik drew in a sharp breath. For a moment, he couldn't speak. Mag's words echoed in his brain. “Kayleigh? Here?” His voice was ragged.
Impatiently, Mags glanced over his shoulder at the top of the hill. “Yes. Look, I don't have time to explain. She's here. I had breakfast with her this morning.” He reached into his parka and pulled out a white slip of paper. “Here's the address and phone number of the hotel where she's staying."
Hand trembling, Erik reached out to take it. Mags moved toward the ski lift, but then stopped and turned back. “Oh, and Erik? She has a man with her. A Norwegian who works at the embassy in Washington D.C. I don't think she's married to him, but they look pretty close, if you know what I mean."
Through dazed eyes, Erik watched Mag's figure grow smaller. His brain was still trying to assimilate the earth-shattering information he'd just received. Kayleigh, here in the same city? How was it possible he hadn't known? Had she been here in the crowd when Mags made his spectacular jump yesterday? Was she here now?
Erik's eyes swept the faces around him. How would he ever find her? He looked down at the paper in his hand. Thank God, Mags had had the foresight to write the address down. His little brother had known how important Kayleigh was to him. Erik decided to find the public phones and call her hotel ... just in case she was still there. What would he say?
He had no idea. He just knew he had to see her again. Would she agree to meet with him? He just had to make up for the way he'd left her. What a fool he'd been to listen to Margit.
Margit. What about her? She was his wife now. Only recently, he'd managed to convince himself he was in love with her. But now, just after hearing Kayleigh's name, he knew it wasn't true. Christ! He didn't want to hurt Margit, but he loved Kayleigh. Had never stopped loving her. He knew he had to see her again ... at any cost. Even if it destroyed his marriage.
Erik dropped the coin into the pay phone and quickly punched out the numbers. After the first ring, he heard a click and then a female voice. “Bon Jour. Hotel Chamonde."
Erik was silent. Mags had forgotten to write down a room number. “Do you speak English?"
"Of course, monsieur. May I help you?"
"I need to reach someone who's staying in your hotel, but I'm afraid I don't have her room number. Can you check your log for Kayleigh, or perhaps Leigh Fallon?"
"Could you spell the last name, please?"
Erik did and waited. A moment later, the voice chirped in his ear. “I'm sorry, monsieur. We have no one by that name listed."
"Merci.” He hung up the phone and turned, staring blankly ahead of him. Of course. If she were with a man, they would be sharing the same room under his name. A tide of burning jealousy ripped through him. A Norwegian, Mags had said. He remembered that she'd met a Norwegian on the flight from New York to Oslo. Could it possibly be the same one?
But what had he expected? A woman as wonderful as Kayleigh wouldn't be alone for long. Intellectually, he knew that. Knew that he should be happy she'd found someone, yet, it was different when he was confronted with the reality of it.
Erik made his way back to where Margit was sitting, his emotions still reeling. It was almost time for the competition to begin. He would simply have to wait until after the first jump to corner Mags and find out the man's name. Meanwhile, he would keep looking. Kayleigh just might be here in the crowd somewhere. And just maybe he'd be lucky enough to find her.
* * * *
Knut Aabel. The name did sound familiar. Erik was sure it was the same name on the business card he'd ripped up. So, he'd been right to be jealous. As he dropped the coin into the payphone, he felt a sudden wave of insecurity wash over him. What if Kayleigh had no desire to hear from him? Suppose she was really in love with this guy? No! That was one thing he had no doubt about. Kayleigh loved him. That had never changed.
The hotel operator answered the phone and he asked her to ring Knut Aabel's room. It rang ten times before the operator came back on the line. “I'm sorry, monsieur. No one is picking up. Perhaps you can try again later."
Frustrated, Erik hung up. There was only one thing to do. He'd go to the hotel and wait for her to show up. She'd have to, sooner or later.
* * * *
The phone was ringing as Leigh unlocked the door to the hotel room. She rushed over to answer it, but it was too late. Whoever it was had already hung up. Well, if it had been the hospital, they'd call back. The doctor had assured her that Knut was going to be okay. Her worst fears had been allayed when she'd learned it hadn't been a heart attack at all, but a lung abscess. A chest tube had been inserted to drain out the infectious material and he'd been started on antibiotics.
With a tired sigh, Leigh sat down in the wing-back chair near the window. She was physically and mentally exhausted. How she wished she could take the time out to relax in a tub of hot water. But now she had to get busy and start packing. On the recommendation of a nurse on Knut's floor, she'd decided to move to a hotel closer to the hospital. The taxi ride back had taken almost thirty-five minutes, and the traffic had been horrible. The friendly nurse, whose husband owned a small hotel only three blocks from the hospital, told her there had been a cancellation that morning for a single room.
As she folded Knut's sweaters and shirts and placed them into his suitcase, she felt a wave of euphoria rush over her. Thank God, it hadn't been a heart attack. When she'd found him struggling for breath on the bathroom floor, she'd thought he was dying. Fortunately, there had been a doctor in the dining room who'd been called up to help. He'd stayed with Knut until the ambulance arrived.
Leigh took a last look around the hotel room to make sure she hadn't forgotten anything. Too bad, she thought. This was such a nice place. And poor Knut. He'd missed the 90 meter ski-jump today. She wondered how Mags had fared. Her brow furrowed at the thought of Mags. She'd forgotten all about seeing him this morning. By now, he'd probably told Erik she was here. Would he try and find her? It didn't really matter because once she left this hotel, she'd be untraceable.
She took the elevator down to the lobby and made her way to the front desk where she returned the key and paid the bill. In the underground garage, she unlocked the door of the Renault rental car. Her plan was to drive it back to the airport and then get a taxi to her new hotel. With Knut in the hospital, there would be no need for a rental car. She drove out into the sunlight and stopped to wait for the traffic to clear. A taxi slowed, flashing its right blinker and turned into the hotel entrance. After it passed, Leigh pulled out and continued past the hotel toward the airport.
* * * *
The taxi pulled to a stop in front of the hotel. Erik paid the driver and hurried into the building. A pretty young woman looked up from the desk and smiled brightly. "Bon Jour, monsieur."
"Bon Jour. I'd like to leave a message for one of your guests. A Mrs. Aabel. Room 714."
Her smile faded. “Oh, I'm sorry, monsieur. You just missed her. She checked out only a moment before."
Erik felt as if his heart had stopped beating. “Any forwarding address?” he asked, knowing what her answer would be.
"Oh, oui!” she smiled, happy to help. “Here it is. 621 M. Street. Washington D.C. in America. Does that help you?"
Crestfallen, Erik stared down at the ledger, automatically memorizing Leigh's address. “I'm afraid it doesn't. Are you sure she wasn't moving to another hotel here in the city?"
"I'm sorry, monsieur. I really couldn't say. I would think it's highly unlikely. We get very few complaints here. Besides, it would be nearly impossible to find a vacancy now."
"Merci.” Erik turned away, his shoulders slumped in defeat. Still, he took some small comfort in knowing that Leigh's Washington address was burned into his brain for future reference. Just in case he didn't find her here.
* * * *
Margit lay stiffly in the queen-sized bed next to Erik and stared bitterly up at the dark ceiling. He was turned away from her, lying as close to the edge of th
e bed as possible. It was as if he were afraid he'd accidently brush up against her. She just couldn't understand it. It reminded her of the early days of their marriage when he'd seemed to dislike her so intensely.
Earlier, she'd attempted to make love to him, but he'd brushed her off, insisting he was exhausted from the day's activities. What activities, she wondered. She'd barely seen him. He'd left her in the stands with Bjorn and Dordei and disappeared before Mag's jump. Later, he'd returned for a few minutes only to leave again on some evasive errand. After Mag's second jump, which had been amazingly unspectacular, Margit had waited around with Anne-Lise and Dordei while the men searched for Erik. A half-hour later, they'd returned with a disappointed Mags, but no Erik. Finally, he'd shown up, breathless and irritable.
Back in their hotel room, he'd evaded her questions with abrupt replies and brooding silence, finally growling out, “Christ, Margit. I just needed some time alone. Can't you give me some space?"
"Of course,” she said icily. With that, she'd turned and slammed out of the room.
After a drink in the hotel bar, she'd returned to the room and found Erik in bed. In the bathroom, she stripped off her clothes and slid into a sexy new negligee.
"Erik?” she whispered as she slipped into bed. When he didn't answer, she slid over against his nude body, one hand playfully caressing his sinewy bicep. Her lips nibbled the back of his neck, just under his silky blond hair. No response. “Erik?” Her hand found its way to his chest and traveled down the mat of springy hair that narrowed to his pubic bone. Margit's breathing quickened. She felt the warm wetness between her legs, and for a moment, she felt as she always had with Bjorn. Hungry with desire. Her hand closed upon his penis. She drew away in revulsion. He was limp, flaccid.
"Erik. What is wrong with you?” Her voice was harsh with frustration. Except for that first time in Greece, Erik had never had any kind of impotency problem. In fact, usually he became instantly hard just at a certain look in her eye, or at the inflection of her voice. Every time she'd felt the need for sex, he'd been ready. Until tonight...
East of the Sun, West of the Moon Page 34