by Robin Wells
He did. Unfortunately, he remembered why he'd called her that, too—being around her made him feel warm and relaxed and happy, like a day at the beach. The name stirred fond, tender memories—memories that made him decidedly uneasy, because they made him feel like such a jerk now.
He stared out at the river, watching a freighter navigate the bend. "So what prompted your sudden interest in traveling?"
"I told you. I want to spend some time with you." She turned toward him and stepped close, near enough that he could smell her White Shoulders perfume. Memories, as warm and provocative as the scent, floated through his mind. "I've missed you, Tom. I've missed us."
"I haven't gone anywhere."
"Oh, yeah?" She gave a slow, sexy smile. "Let me see." Before he knew it, she'd put her arms around his neck and pulled him into a kiss.
She tasted sweet and warm, like freshly baked cakeangel food and devil's food, with passion fruit icing. His body immediately responded.
She reflexively snugged her body against his arousal. "I've missed this."
Good Lord—he'd missed it, too. But she was the one who'd created the distance. Just when he'd needed her most, when his heart was breaking, when he needed to give comfort as much he'd needed to receive it, she'd pulled away and isolated herself from him.
Just like his mother had done after his father's death.
The thought made Tom draw back. But Susanna refused to release her hold on him. "Remember the first time we kissed?" she murmured, running her hands through his hair.
As if he could ever forget. He'd never forget any of his firsts with Susanna—the first time he'd laid eyes on her, the first time he'd heard her soft voice, the first time he'd gotten close enough to smell her perfume. She'd looked like a brunette Grace Kelly, sitting in the next aisle of his junior-year statistics class in college. It had taken him a month to get up the nerve to ask her out, and five dates before he'd tried to kiss her. When he had, she'd kissed him back with such passion that it had turned his world upside down. He'd rapidly gone from bewitched to besotted. Within four months, he'd asked her to marry him.
He'd been amazed that she'd said yes. She was the pampered daughter of a wealthy Mobile industrialist, and he was a poor boy from West Texas—poor because his father had died when he was a youth and his mother had chosen to escape loneliness through self-medication.
Susanna had represented all that he admired, all that he aspired to, all that he wanted in life. Respectability. Class. Refinement.
He'd wanted a women who was the exact opposite of his mother, and he'd found it in Susanna. She would never publicly humiliate him. He would never have to bail her out of jail or carry her home when she passed out or apologize for her behavior. He'd wanted a woman who would be an asset to him, and Susanna had more than exceeded his wildest dreams. Her social grace, personal warmth, and political acumen had helped him build the strong network of friends and associates that was the cornerstone of his success.
But then Rachel had died, and Susanna had done the one thing that, he now realized, he resented his mother for most of all: she'd emotionally abandoned him just when he'd needed her most.
Susanna nuzzled close now, nipping at his bottom lip with her mouth. He felt the imprint of her breasts against his chest, the press of her pelvis against his. "I want you," she murmured. "I want to make love with you."
He wanted her, too—wanted desperately to fall into bed with her, to pretend, for a just few moments, that the last two years had never happened. But he was torn--torn between the need to get close and the need to keep his distance. Torn by guilt. Torn by a jumble of crazy, topsy-turvy emotions bubbling inside of him like a shaken-up can of soda.
He'd planned to come to New Orleans and cheat on her. How could he just turn around and make love to her now? In some ways, that almost seemed worse— more two-faced, certainly--than actually being unfaithful.
Hell. His thinking didn't make any sense anymore, not even in his own head. Maybe he was losing his mind.
He pulled away and glanced down at his watch. "I, uh, need to go downstairs and see someone."
It was time to meet Kelly. He didn't dare stand her up. He had find a way to appease her so that she didn't create some kind of scene.
Susanna released him with a reluctant sigh. "All right. How long do you think you'll be?"
"I'm not sure."
"Well, I've made plans for us to dine with the Bennetts tonight. We're going to Commander's Palace."
Tom froze. It would look very odd if he didn't accompany his wife to dinner—especially tonight, when, the conference had yet to officially get underway. Especially with the Bennetts. Bob was this year's conference chairman. If the man was free to have dinner with his wife, then Tom most certainly should be there with his own.
"You shouldn't have made plans without talking to me," he said curtly.
Susanna smiled apologetically. "I thought you had more than enough on your mind. If you can't make it, well, I'll just go out with them alone."
Tom sighed. He really didn't have a choice. "What time are the reservations?"
"Seven-thirty. We're leaving the hotel at seven-fifteen."
"I'll meet you back here at seven."
Two mornings later, Susanna checked her wristwatch as she sat in the elegant hotel restaurant. She was supposed to meet seven other wives for breakfast to kick off a day of sight-seeing and shopping, but she was thirty minutes early. Tom had had to get up for a seven-thirty breakfast meeting, and she'd been unable to go back to sleep.
No, that wasn't quite right, she thought dryly, taking a sip of fragrant chicory laced coffee. "Back to sleep" implied that she'd actually slept. For most of the last two nights, she'd lain awake, painfully aware of Tom tossing fitfully beside her. Last night he'd rolled onto his side, his back toward her, and pretended to be asleep as soon as they'd climbed into the king-sized bed together, but she'd known better.
She hadn't made it easy on him. Two could play at this game, she'd decided. Pretending to be asleep herself, she'd curled up against .his, back and wrapped her arm around him, letting her hand drape strategically across his groin. His body had instantly, responded. She'd lain perfectly still, deliberately keeping her breathing deep and regular. After a few torturous minutes, Tom had rolled onto his stomach—a position that couldn't have been comfortable, considering that he was stiff as a kickstand.
Later, when he actually was asleep, he'd rolled over and curled up next to her, cradling her against his chest. It had felt so sweet that she'd laid there and wept into her pillow. He'd held her for most of the night, and when the alarm sounded at seven, she'd still been in his arms. She'd pretended to be asleep, and had been gratified to feel him run his hands over her breasts just before he'd arisen.
Susanna took another sip of coffee, but the warmth that spread through her had nothing to do with the hot beverage. Her plan was working. Quietly and noncombatively, she was reasserting herself into Tom's life, reminding him that they shared a common history not only with each other, but with everyone they knew. He couldn't lose her without losing other parts of his life.
Susanna's train of thought was interrupted by the abrupt appearance of Kelly at her table, wearing a short, tight blue suit. Adrenaline flooded her veins, but Susanna forced a calm smile. "Why, good morning, Kelly. Are you enjoying the conference?"
The blonde ignored the question and fixed her with a hostile glare. "Tom doesn't love you, you know."
Susanna felt as if she'd just taken a sucker punch. She struggled for a reply, but she needn't have bothered, because Kelly wasn't through spewing venom. "He's just staying with you out of pity. He plans to leave you, but he hasn't found a way to tell you yet. It's me that he wants."
Susanna drew a deep calming breath, carefully keeping her features even, grateful for the rigid training in comportment that had been a major part of her upbringing. "How very interesting." She slowly took a sip of coffee, gripping the handle tightly to keep her hand from shak
ing. "He certainly wasn't acting like a man who wanted you last night. Or this morning, either, for that matter." She carefully put her cup back in the china saucer.
Kelly's eyes narrowed to hateful slits. "I don't believe you."
Susanna raised an amused eyebrow. "Suit yourself, dear."
"I happen to know he hasn't slept with you in over a year."
The words cut right through Susanna's heart. How could Tom confide such an intimate detail to this woman? Pain tore through her, sharp and acute. But then, that was exactly what Kelly wanted to do—to inflict pain. Susanna wouldn't give her the satisfaction of knowing she'd succeeded.
She lifted the comers of her mouth in a dry, worldly smile. "Is that what he told you?"
"Yes.”
Susanna shook her head, her eyes pitying. "And you believed him?"
The look on Kelly's face was priceless. Susanna leaned forward and placed her hand over the younger woman's. "Take some advice from a woman who's older and wiser, dear. You can't believe everything a man in the midst of a midlife crisis tells you. Especially about his relationship with his wife."
"He doesn't love you," Kelly repeated coldly.
Susanna lifted her cup again. "Believe what you want, dear. But if I were you, I'd take whatever he says with a grain of salt." She lifted her wrist and waved to her friends, who'd appeared at the door of the restaurant. They headed toward her.
Her glance drifted back to Kelly. "Excuse me, but I have to go" Susanna scooted back her chair and smiled at the younger woman. "And dear, you really should try to get more sleep. You look like a princess who's had too many peas in her mattress."
Kelly's face turned an unflattering shade of fuschia. With a muttered word that was most unladylike, she turned and stormed from the table.
Susanna felt limp and shaken. She longed to flee to her room, to pull the covers over her head and have a good, long cry, but she refused to surrender to the urge.
She refused to surrender to anything. This was war. She'd just had her first direct encounter with the enemy, and she'd walked away victorious.
Tom finished gathering up his papers as the last of the seminar participants filed from the room, then turned around to find his friend Bob Bennett at his side.
The man smiled and shook his hand. "Nice presentation."
"Thanks. Are you going to the luncheon?"
"Yeah. I'll walk that way with you." Bob walked beside him to the door and out into the foyer.
"Susanna said she and Barbara were going on a tour
354Baby, Oh Baby!
of the Garden District today with some of the other wives"
Bob nodded. "So I heard. Evidently a group of the gals hit the antique stores on Royal Street yesterday. Barbara bought some Gawd-awful lamp, but from what I hear, Susanna didn't do much damage."
Tom smiled. "I'm surprised. She loves antiques."
Bob glanced at him as they rounded a bend in the foyer. "You know, I was really glad to see you bring Susanna with you on this trip."
"I'm glad she decided to come." And he was; he actually was, he realized with surprise. He'd forgotten what an asset she was to him at events like this, how her charm and warmth made people seek them out, how having her with him made him feel at the center of things.
Bob nodded. "I'd heard some rumors that the Blonde Barracuda had you in her sights. I'm glad to see you're not taking the bait."
Tom nearly stumbled over his own feet. "Blonde Barracuda?"
"You know. Kelly Banyon."
"Ah." Tom's heart pounding guiltily. "We've, uh, worked on a couple of cases together."
Bob nodded. I figured that was all there was to it. I knew you were too smart to fall for the likes of her." He shook his head. "She's one sick puppy."
"What do you mean?"
"You haven't heard about her?"
“No."
"Oh, sheeze." Bob rolled his eyes. "She's got a trail of wrecked marriages behind her that make Hurricane Georges look like a cakewalk."
"Is that a fact?"
"Oh, yeah. Seems she's got a reverse Oedipus complex or daddy fetish or some such thing going. You know Charlie Young?"
Charlie was an Oklahoma attorney who specialized in civil litigation. "Not well. I know who he is."
"Well, Charlie's one of her casualties. He told me she's a case straight out of a psycho thriller. She's got a thing for getting older men to swear their undying love and dump their wives. Once they do, she leaves them in the dust and heads on to her next victim. Seems her father ignored her as a kid and she was jealous of her mother or some such, and this is her way of getting even." Bob shook his head. "She's a real head case."
Jake had vaguely mentioned that Kelly had some kind of reputation, but Tom had refused to listen. Tom's upper lip broke a sweat. "So ... there were rumors about me and Kelly?"
Bob lifted his shoulders. "Oh, a few. I never paid them much attention. You know how people talk. Some- one saw you out with her a couple of times, that's all."
"We discussed the case over lunch a few times."
"Well, that's all it takes to get tongues wagging. I knew there was nothing to it. I mean, with a gorgeous woman like Susanna at home, why would you bother to look twice at anyone else?"
Because I'm a fool, Tom thought ruefully. A blind, stupid, self-pitying fool. Hell—I must have taken temporary leave of my senses.
It all washed over him, the magnitude of what Susanna meant to him, of what he'd nearly thrown away. Jesus Christ, he was an idiot. A woman like his wife was worth a thousand Kellys. A hundred thousand. Hell, a hundred mullion.
She was one of a kind, a real treasure. She was the best thing that had ever happened to him-the very foundation of his life. Sure, they'd had some rough times—probably the roughest a couple go through. They'd lost a child, their only child, the child they'd created out of their love, the child they'd loved as much as they loved each other.
They'd handled their grief in different ways, and those differences had pushed them apart. It had backed them into cold, painful, lonely corners, into cold, painful, lonely beds.
They'd grown apart. Well, hell—at least that meant they were still capable of growing. If they could still grow, then maybe they could grow pack together.
More than anything, that was what Tom wanted.
"Oh, there's Peter Carpenter," Bob said. "I need to speak with him about something."
"Go ahead," Tom said. "I'll see you inside." He turned toward the ballroom, only to hear a familiar voice at his elbow.
"There you are," came a slinky murmur. "I've been looking everywhere for you."
He froze, his chest cold with dread. He didn't have to turn to know who it was. "Hello, Kelly."
"You've been ignoring me, you naughty man."
Tom took a deep breath. He might as well get this over with. "Listen, Kelly—we need to talk."
"We need to do more than that. Want to go my room?"
"No. Look Kelly ..." He stepped to the side of the ballroom, out of the flow of traffic. He needed to end this now. "Look—I've done you an injustice. I've been confused, and I'm afraid I've misled you about the nature of things between us."
She plucked an imaginary piece of lint off his lapel. Her eyes flashed an X-rated message. "I'd like to put a little more nature between us."
Tom stepped back. "Look, Kelly... I really don't know how to put this. You're a very attractive woman, and I'm extremely flattered at your interest in me, but I'm... well, I'm just not in the market for an affair."
Her eyes iced over. "You brought me all the way to New Orleans to give me the brush-off?"
"I didn't bring you anywhere. You brought yourself." "You haven't even given me a chance!"
"This has nothing to do with you. It has to do with my marriage. I've realized I still love my wife, and I want to make my marriage work."
"No, you don't. You just can't work up the nerve to tell her it's over." Kelly's mouth curved into a smug smile. "Well, you don't have to wo
rry about that anymore. I've taken care of it for you."
Tom froze. "What do you mean, you've taken care of it?"
"I talked to her this morning. I told her you were planning to leave her for me."
Oh, dear God. Tom's stomach sank like a block of cement. "You're kidding."
"I'm not." Her eyes were cold as a reptile's. "But if you don't believe me, ask her."
He wanted to. Immediately. But she was off on an all- day sight-seeing expedition with the other wives. He would have to wait until this evening to talk to her. A lump as hard as a cannonball formed in his throat. "What—what did she say?"
Kelly lifted her shoulders. "Not much. She really didn't seem to care."
Oh, Lord. If Susanna didn't care, then things were in worse shape than he'd imagined. "Did she say any- thing?"
Kelly's mouth curled. "Yeah. She said you were having a mid-life crisis." The woman's fingers slowly played on his arm, doing a two-step up to his shoulder.
"So you see, now there's nothing standing between us."
Tom stepped back, beyond her reach. "Kelly, there is no `us.' I'm married, and I intend to stay that way. I'm sorry if I've misled you."
"This is a one-time-only offer. Pass it up now, and it's rescinded forever." She toyed with the neck of her blouse, a seductive smile on her face. "You don't know what you're missing."
Oh, yes, I do, Tom thought. What I'm missing is my wife. And I intend to make up for lost time.
The poolside reception was in full swing late that afternoon as Tom checked his watch for the fifth time in as many minutes. "I thought our wives were supposed be hack by now."
Bob stuffed a dollar bill into the tip jar at the poolside bar and took the beer the bartender handed him, squinting from the late afternoon sun. "They were. Knowing my wife, though, she probably talked the driver into stopping somewhere to shop."
Tom took a drink of his scotch and soda. His stomach was tense and knotted, and it had felt that way ever since his conversation with Kelly. It was eating at his guts, Imagining what she might have told Susanna.
If she'd really spoken to her. For all he knew, Kelly Was lying, trying to trick him into ruining his marriage himself.