Dangerous Relations

by Marilyn Levinson

She walked into his outstretched arms and instantly was comforted by his warm, virile body. He stroked her hair and her neck, making her forget the many deaths, obliterating their conflict over Leonie. She was with the man she loved, and she knew he loved her. She felt a quickening in her center as she lifted her face to his waiting lips.

  Their kiss grew deeper and more urgent. She welcomed his probing tongue and pressed closer into his embrace. Her breasts crushed against his rib cage. The pressure of his throbbing erection drove her into a frenzy of excitement.

  They climbed the stairs to his bedroom, where they quickly shed their clothes. Brett lay her down gently on the king-sized bed. Almost reverently, he ran his hands along her body.

  "You are so beautiful, so perfect." He lowered his head to suckle her breast.

  Ardin moaned, and drew him closer. He moved his mouth to her other breast as his fingers went deep inside her. Then he kissed her lips. "I'm glad you're not leaving. I want you to stay."

  His words intensified the delicious sensations enveloping her body in ever-increasing spirals of pleasure. When he spread her thighs apart, she reached for his rigid shaft and guided it into place.

  He stretched along the length of her, and for a moment they remained still, their gazes locked in wonder. Then he began thrusting, fierce and primal.

  Later they lay side by side beneath the quilt, fingers entwined. Brett leaned over to kiss her cheek. "I was afraid this would never happen again."

  "And I was afraid it would." Suddenly anxious, Ardin sat up, ready to bolt. The heady glow of intimacy would fade and leave her despondent, make her future life without him more difficult to bear.

  He reached out and caught her around the waist. "Hey, where are you going?"

  "To get dressed."

  "Not yet."

  "Yes, now."

  He released her. What was wrong with her, jumping from one emotion to the other? Acting like a teenager. Not knowing what she wanted.

  "Okay." She yielded to the glowing feeling and snuggled into his waiting embrace. "But just for a few minutes. Leonie will be home soon."

  Brett glanced at the clock. "Not for hours." He propped himself on his elbow and grinned down at her. "Worried you've compromised your position by collaborating with the enemy?"

  "No, of course not!" But her blush proved her a liar.

  His hand caught her now loosened hair, and he twirled it around his fingers. "Would it help if I told you I care for you?"

  "That would be nice to hear," she admitted.

  He pressed his lips against the pulsing vein in her neck. "I do. Very much."

  Part of her longed to wrap her arms and her legs around him and start their loving game again. But that would only postpone the pain.

  The sane, sensible part sent her inching off the bed and reaching for her panties. He claimed he cared for her, but Ardin knew it wouldn't last. Love never lasted.

  Not that Brett had said he loved her.

  "Have I rendered the counselor speechless," he said, sounding amused, "or do Manhattan attorneys regularly set aside time for sex in the afternoon? Kind of like a fast game of paddleball."

  "Oh, right. Sure. That's really what we have time for."

  "Well, then--"

  "Well, then what?" Ardin pulled on her skirt. It felt funny, putting her suit back on, but that was what she'd been wearing.

  He slid over to her side of the bed and pressed his naked torso into her back, and rubbed his chin along her shoulder. "Aren't you going to tell me how much you care for me?"

  She shivered with pleasure. "I do care for you," she whispered. "Which is why I have to get the hell out of here."

  At that, he doubled up with laughter, and let her leave the room.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  An idea occurred to Ardin as she showered. She changed into jeans and a shirt and traipsed downstairs, eager to share it with Brett. Her heart did flip-flops at the sight of him. Shoeless, shirtless, wearing only a pair of jeans, he was wolfing down a Dagwood-size sandwich.

  He looked abashed when he caught her staring. "I got ravenous."

  "I'm starved, too," she said.

  He held out his enormous sandwich. "Want some?"

  "Sure."

  He broke off half and gave it to her. She bit into it, and smiled as she chewed. "Terrific!" She took another bite.

  "It's the provolone and Grey Poupon mustard. You must use Grey Poupon, nothing else."

  "I'll keep that in mind."

  "Here." He handed her a full glass. "It's iced tea. First pitcher of the season."

  Ardin sipped. I could do this forever: share snacks, make love, whatever. Then she remembered why she'd come looking for him.

  "I had an idea just now." She spoke quickly, in case he got the wrong impression it had anything to do with them. "How we might go about finding out if Corey is Leonie's biological father."

  "Oh?"

  The warmth of his gaze as he waited for her to explain made her want to nibble his bottom lip, but she kept her distance.

  "Blood types. I know it's not definitive like blood tests and we can't test Corey, but I know what his type is, and what Suziette's was, too. All I'm missing is Leonie's."

  "That's easy enough." Brett stood up. "I'm sure it's somewhere in her medical records. They're in a file in the basement."

  It took him five minutes to find it. "Here it is, AB positive."

  "AB positive!" She could barely contain her excitement. "It's a match! Corey's type A and Suziette was B positive. As and Bs produce ABs." She stopped, noting his frown. "What's wrong?"

  "Come on, Ardin. That's no proof. After all, there are only four blood types: A, B, O, and AB."

  "Yes, but you're forgetting the RH factor! Less than 10 percent of the population is B positive; less than 5 percent AB positive!"

  "What are you, a walking encyclopedia?"

  "I took an undergraduate course in genetics and I tend to remember figures and odd facts, so the percentages stuck."

  "I'm impressed."

  "By me or my findings?"

  "Both." He held out his arms, but she dodged his embrace.

  "Think you're up to asking Corey a few questions?" She heard the challenge in her voice and wondered whom it was for.

  "Absolutely." He glanced up at the clock. "I should be able to catch him now at his showroom."

  She reached for his arm as he strode past. "Brett." He stopped. "I'm going with you."

  She watched him bite back his impulse to tell her to stay put and felt a surge of love for this beautiful, caring man. Finally, he said, "Are you sure?"

  She nodded, hugged him tight, and followed him to the garage.

  * * * *

  They made their entrance just as Corey was urging a potential customer to slide behind the wheel of an SUV. His eyes widened when he caught sight of them, and then narrowed with fury. Apprehensive, Ardin moved closer to Brett. He squeezed her arm and let her go. She was glad. She had to face her ex-husband standing on her own.

  Corey spoke to the customer, who nodded and got into the vehicle as Corey strode toward them. "What the hell do you two want?" he said under his breath.

  "We'd like to talk to you," Brett said.

  "Can't you see I'm busy?"

  His barely suppressed irritation was making Ardin more anxious. "We'll wait," she said, and was stunned at how cool she sounded.

  Corey looked from one to the other, and then at the man stepping out of the SUV. "I may be a while. You can wait in my private office."

  They sat in the two plastic chairs and smiled at each other. Ardin had the odd sensation of being caught in a dream. She'd done something to anger Cory, and soon he'd be coming to punish her. She shivered, dreading the blows, the hateful insults.

  "No!" She leaped to her feet.

  Brett reached up and rubbed her back until she stopped hyperventilating. "This isn't on my list of favorites, either."

  "And I wanted to come," she reminded them both.

&
nbsp; "We can always leave."

  "I want to stay. I have to stay!" She took deep breaths and sat down, pressing her folded arms into her lap.

  Corey burst through the doorway and slammed the door shut. "All right, what's so damn important you had to come here, smack in the middle of a sale?" He slid into his seat behind the desk.

  "Oh," Brett said in mock surprise. "I didn't realize the customer had decided on the SUV."

  Corey's nostrils flared; an angry red burned his cheeks. "Just about. He's bringing his wife to see it tomorrow. Not that it's any of your damn business."

  Ardin cleared her throat, intent on speaking. She was glad to have Brett beside her for moral support, but she was determined to pull her own weight.

  "We're here to talk about something that is our business. Leonie."

  Corey's body twitched as if someone had poked him with an electric prod. "Leonie?" He gave a hoarse laugh. "What the hell do I have to do with Suziette's bastard?"

  Brett slammed his hands on the desk. "Watch that mouth!"

  Ardin shuddered. She was trapped between two volcanoes about to erupt. Controlling the waver in her voice as best she could, she said, "Both Brett and I want to adopt her, but the process is being held up because the judge wants to know the identity of her biological father. And so..."

  Not missing a beat, Brett continued, "We're asking you to tell us if Leonie's your child."

  The blood that had rushed to Corey's face now drained away, leaving him ashen. "Of course she isn't! Where did you get a crazy idea like that?"

  "We checked out blood types," Ardin answered. "You and Suziette would produce an AB positive, and that's Leonie's blood type."

  "Blood types!" Corey's upper lip curled in disdain. "Nowadays people use DNA tests. They're more accurate, or didn't you know?"

  Brett glared. "Are you offering us a sample so we can get this damn business over with?"

  Corey stood. "I most certainly am not. I just told you I'm not her father, didn't I?"

  Ardin reached out to touch his arm. "Please, Corey. We won't tell anyone if you are--except the judge. We need to know."

  He brushed her hand away. "You fool!" He laughed. "You never learn. You're still after Suziette's leftovers--her husband, her child."

  "What about her lover?" Brett's voice was dangerously soft.

  Ardin felt a jolt of pleasure when Corey stumbled backward until he hit the wall. "We found out about you and Suziette in high school. I wish I had known."

  "Then what?" he jeered. "You wouldn't have married me?"

  "That was the biggest mistake of my life."

  "Mine too." He sounded more sullen than angry.

  "Only you knew it from the start." She pushed on, wondering where she was getting the nerve to talk about this most painful, humiliating period of her life. "I had to find it out for myself."

  She forced herself to meet his gaze. "I had to have it beaten into me that you were poison. It was the only way I could admit our marriage was a failure from day one."

  "You were the failure, Ardin." He had the nerve to smirk. "Because Tiffany and I are doing just fine."

  "Oh, really?" Brett drawled. "That's not what we hear."

  Fists raised, Corey moved toward him until there was barely an inch between the two men. Brett held his ground.

  Ardin flinched, waiting for Corey to strike, but he stood there, crackling with fury and frustration.

  "Get out!" he shouted. "Both of you! And don't come back!"

  "Why would we?" Brett motioned for Ardin to pass through the door, and very deliberately turned his back on Corey.

  The sound of the slammed door rang in their ears as they went out into the spring afternoon.

  * * * *

  Brett sped down Main Street until a red light stopped them. He turned to Ardin and grinned. "You were awesome."

  "You weren't bad yourself."

  She was being self-deprecating, and he refused to let her get away with it. "No really. Facing that creep on his own turf took guts."

  "I'm glad I did," she said. "I'm finally free of Corey MacAllister."

  "And you weren't afraid of him."

  "Hey, I wouldn't go that far. I knew you were there."

  "I watched you push on into painful territory. You were after something, lady, and you held fast."

  He loved the sound of her laughter--clear and tinkly, like a running stream. It made him want to laugh, too.

  "Thanks for the vote of confidence, but we still don't know if Corey is Leonie's father."

  "I think he's our man," Brett said. "Why else would he go bananas when we asked him?"

  Ardin shrugged, a soft, sensual gesture that pierced right through his heart. Everything she did--every motion, each word she spoke--affected him. Man, if he wasn't turning into a love-crazed sap.

  "I don't know what's going on in his head," she said. "I've never seen him so upset. Almost bizarre."

  "Maybe he's grieving for Suziette. That is, if he didn't kill her."

  "Could be both," Ardin said. An idea occurred to her. "What if Corey found Suziette's black book, and something he read there made him realize he was Leonie's father? It would account for his acting so weird."

  "Can't be. Someone was paying her money all along."

  "Maybe she was blackmailing someone for something else. Or letting the guy think he was Leonie's father."

  Brett pounded the steering wheel. "Damn it! We're nowhere on this!"

  She flinched, and he was about to apologize. Instead, he rubbed his knuckles along her cheek. "Hey, you have to stop thinking a guy's about to bop you one when he's just letting off steam."

  She gave him a sheepish grin. "I'm trying."

  He turned into Rolling Hills. The new houses glistened in the sunlight. "I have to admit, part of me's relieved Corey denied parentage. I'd hate to think Leonie's his daughter."

  Ardin sighed. "Me, too. Only it would settle things, wouldn't it?"

  He finished her train of thought as he drove onto the driveway. "And the judge would make his decision, for you or for me." When she didn't respond, he said, "Will you go back to Manhattan either way?"

  "Of course." Her voice sounded muffled. "As it is, my job's on the line."

  "Too bad," he said softly, as the garage door made its noisy way upward. He wasn't certain if she'd heard him. At any rate, she made no reply.

  * * * *

  Ardin felt unbelievably drained. Maybe confronting one's ex and one's past sapped a whole lot of energy. She could barely keep her eyes open at dinner, and was relieved when Brett offered to clean up.

  "Thanks. I'll get Leonie ready for bed in a little while."

  "Okay."

  The tension between them hummed like a hive of bees. They spoke only when necessary. Take note because this is how things would really be between us, she told herself. Brett would turn moody and quiet; she would grow more and more unhappy. And with nothing to sustain their passion, the frequency of their lovemaking would dwindle down from rarely to never.

  She went into the family room and turned on the TV low. Leonie was sitting at Brett's desk, drawing pictures.

  "Am I going to nursery school camp?" Leonie said. "Michelle and Dawn and Petey are."

  Startled, Ardin looked at her. "I don't know, honey. Your daddy and I will have to talk about it."

  "Well, I want to. Daddy will let me."

  Ardin opened her mouth to say she and Brett still had to discuss it, and shut it again. The child had suffered enough traumas, and didn't need to feel insecure about her future as well.

  After she bathed Leonie and read her a story, Ardin kissed her forehead. "Your daddy will be up any minute to say good-night."

  Leonie grabbed her hand as she was leaving. "Isn't this house nice, Cousin Ardin?"

  "Yes, it is," she said cautiously.

  "Good! Because I want you to stay here forever and ever."

  Heartsick, Ardin went to her bedroom and changed into her nightgown and bathrobe. What fantas
ies had she woven, imagining she could uproot Leonie and bring her to live in Manhattan? The child's home was this house. Here was where Leonie wanted to live. With Brett and with her.

  Of course that was impossible. A child's fairy tale of happily-ever-after. But after all she'd been through, Leonie was entitled to have two of her three wishes come true.

  A sickening feeling churned in her stomach as she faced the truth. She'd been selfish and self-serving, trying to take Leonie away from Brett. What she wanted ran counter to the child's best interests. And all because she was destined to live the rest of her life as an old maid--unloved and unloving till the day she died.

  It was too much! Ardin turned her face into the pillow and sobbed, her shoulders heaving as she poured out her grief. She wasn't meant to marry or to have a child. Any child. Not even Suziette's daughter.

  Exhausted, she drifted into a light sleep. When she awoke half an hour later, she felt weightless, almost airborne, as though she'd shrugged off a sheepskin coat that had been pressing down on her. She'd withdraw her petition to adopt Leonie and return to Manhattan immediately. She'd tell Brett of her decision in the morning.

  * * * *

  The solution to their problem struck him like a bolt of lightning. Brett kissed Leonie goodnight, and went to his desk in the family room to consider his plan from every angle. He grinned, his excitement mounting, because it covered all bases and then some. Now all he had to do was convince Ardin that, despite its one unconventional element, his brainstorm suited the three of them just fine.

  He dashed up the stairs, two at a time, and knocked on her door. When she didn't answer, he knocked again. Light showed from beneath the door, so he knew she wasn't sleeping. He turned the knob and walked in.

  Ardin was sprawled on the bed, rubbing her eyes like a little kid. Without lipstick and her hair loose, she looked like a kid--small and vulnerable.

  "Sorry, I didn't realize you were sleeping."

  "It's okay. I'm getting up."

  Her eyes and nostrils were red. Had she been crying? He felt ill-at-ease and wished he hadn't barged in.

  "Are you up to talking?"

  She shrugged.

  This wasn't going according to plan. Still, he forced enthusiasm into his voice. "Good, because I think I've come up with a way to make everyone happy."