“Romantic,” Kristin told him with a smile. “Thanks. That’s really nice.”
“Except that you have to stay with me,” he warned her.
“Stay with you?”
“Yes. You were trying to walk out on me when Roger and Sue arrived. Remember.”
“Yes, I remember,” Kristin said, her eyes narrowing. “Because I can have very little to say to you when you don’t believe me.”
“I didn’t say—”
“Yes, you did. And then you lied.”
“I never lied.”
“You certainly did. You and your five miles of flesh.”
“Oh, well, in the heat of the moment…”
Kristin shut the oven door on the lobster tails. “You can just take your filets out to the gas grill. And maybe hop on the fire with them.”
“Does that mean a movie is off?”
Kristin gritted her teeth. “There isn’t a movie anywhere around—”
“Sure there is. We’ll drive over to Athol. Truce for the evening?”
She’d forgotten. It was a big, big evening for Roger and Sue.
“Only in honor of my new cousin-to-be,” she told him.
“Of course.”
Whistling, he turned around with his plate of steaks and went on through to the patio with them.
Within an hour, they had all eaten. They’d discussed names for the new little Doria-to-be, and Justin had made decaffeinated cappuccino for Roger and Sue with rock candy sticks stuck into the mugs.
Then Kristin tried to be casual about saying she and Justin were going to a movie.
“Don’t you want us to come with you?” Roger asked.
“No!” Kristin said.
“Oh.” He sounded a little hurt. “Well, then, Sue and I will just go home—”
“Oh, you dummy!” Kristin cried. “We’re trying to leave you romantically alone!”
“Oh!” Roger seemed to turn a million shades of red. “Oh, that’s really nice. But—”
“There are towels in the cabana bath. The door’s right over there,” Justin told Roger. “In case you two decide to go for a swim. We’ll probably take in a show and maybe have coffee somewhere, and then head back. We’ll be several hours, I imagine, getting in and out of Athol.” He was on his feet, pulling Kristin to hers. “We’ll see you in a while, okay?”
Roger stood, his hands in his pockets, his cheeks still a warm shade of red. “Listen, you two, you don’t have to do this, we have our own home—”
“But it doesn’t have a pool like this!” Sue said, tugging at his hand. “Roger, sit down. Justin?”
“Yes, Sue?”
“Thank you!”
Justin grinned and caught Kristin’s hand. “Come on.”
Kristin looked back as he led her out. “We’ll probably head back to your house first,” she told them. “Have a nice evening.”
Within a few minutes, they were driving away in Justin’s car. Kristin smiled, leaning back in the seat. There was such a nice feeling about having left Roger and Sue there so happy in the middle of a fantasy come true after all their years of marriage. A good marriage. Ten years of it. They’d always stood beside each other, supported each other. And they were still in love.
“Happy?” Justin asked her suddenly.
“Yes. Very.”
“They’ve wanted a child a long time, I take it?”
“Yes. That’s the most wonderful thing about them, though. No matter what went wrong, they supported each other instead of casting blame. They never turned to others, they always believed in each other.”
“It’s what marriage is supposed to be,” Justin murmured. “Now there’s the fantasy.”
Kristin cast a quick glance his way. His eyes were on the road. He must have been thinking about Myra. Kristin leaned back again. Her own marriage had been such a disaster. She was suddenly envying her cousin and Sue with all of her heart. They were already living the fantasy, she thought.
“What do you want to see?” Justin asked her.
“Are we going to have a choice?”
“Probably not.”
Kristin grinned, leaned back and closed her eyes again.
And that was a mistake. Within a few minutes she had sunk down in the seat. A few minutes more and her head was falling, and soon she was sound asleep on his lap.
When she woke up, he was smoothing back her hair. “Kristin.”
Startled, she struggled up from his lap. “Are we here? The movies?”
He shook his head. His eyes were bright in the moonlight. “I drove to Athol but you were sleeping so soundly that I turned around and drove back. We’re at Roger and Sue’s.”
“Oh! Oh…” Disoriented, Kristin looked around. Roger’s front door loomed before her. She looked back to Justin. “You drove all the way to Athol and then all the way back?”
He shrugged. “Sure.”
She smiled, lowering her head. “Come on in. I’ll try not to be so rude again.”
Justin followed her into the house.
It was old, several hundred years old, but very warm with hardwood floors, pleasantly papered walls and comfortable furniture. It was immaculately clean, but with a nice lived-in feeling that instantly made people feel at home.
Justin was no different. While Kristin hung their coats, he moved into the living room, looking at the VCR. “At least we have our choice of movies here. Ah! How about Lawrence of Arabia? That will give them several hours!”
Kristin grinned. “Fine.”
Neither of them sat on the couch. By some instinct they wound up on the floor together, heads resting on throw pillows, a down comforter pulled over their legs. They watched the movie in silence for a while, and then she felt his chin moving subtly on her head as she was nuzzled back against him.
“What happened after your divorce?” he asked her, and his tone was serious.
Kristin shrugged. “I told you. I went home. I went back to school. And then I worked. Hard.”
“Reporting?”
She listened for a barb in his tone. There wasn’t one. She turned in his arms, looking into his eyes. “Yes. I started with one of the daily papers, and then I went to one of the newsmagazines.”
“No involvements?”
“What?”
“No more involvements. After your husband?”
“Oh.” She felt soft color rising to her cheeks. “I was busy.”
“I’m glad.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re very beautiful. And you’re fun. And you cook. And you play chess really delightfully. And if someone else had snatched you up…” He shrugged. “Well, we wouldn’t be here now.”
A searing warmth settled over her. “Ah, yes, but I’m after a story, remember?” she murmured.
“I’m doing my best to give you a good one. Let’s see, a newspaper, and then a newsmagazine. And then you went on your own?”
She nodded. “It gave me the freedom to choose what I wanted to write about.” She bit her lip, wondering what emotion flicked through his eyes. To choose … and she had chosen him, he must be thinking.
“Justin, I didn’t—”
“You know, I was just thinking that you really have had incredible faith in me.”
She smiled. “Yes, I have.”
“You’ve never doubted me.”
“Never. At first I was certain that you were a maniac,” she told him solemnly.
He grinned. “And then…?”
“Then I simply believed.”
He watched her for a long time. “Like Roger and Sue. Endless faith. And support.”
She didn’t say anything. She watched him.
“I believed in it once. And then…” His voice trailed away. He leaned close over her. His lips touched hers, softly, tenderly. “Kristin?”
“Yes?” she said softly.
He started to speak, but a jarring ring suddenly interrupted him. They stared at each other, startled.
“It’s the phon
e!” Kristin said with a laugh.
Justin moved back and Kristin scrambled to her feet. She hurried to the phone on the stand by the sofa.
“Hello?”
To her amazement, it was Sue.
“Thank heavens you’re there!” she said. “Roger said you two would never really make it to a movie, that you’d be at our house.”
Kristin stared at the receiver for a moment, puzzled. Damn Roger! He knew her too well.
“Kristin?” Sue said anxiously.
“Yes, yes. I’m here. What’s the matter?”
Justin was already standing, watching her with a frown.
“This isn’t a fantasy, Kristin. This is bedlam. There are people here!”
“What?”
“A woman who says she’s Justin’s agent arrived, and then right after that, a man showed up with a carload! Seems there is a lady—Maria Canova—taking over a part in Justin’s play. And she wanted to meet him. So the cast decided to come here together.
“Kristin—there are six people out in the living room. And my stockings are still draped over the Jacuzzi. Do you think you two could come back?”
Justin was already walking to the stand by the door for their coats. He must have caught some of what Sue was saying.
“Tell her I’ll be home right away,” he said.
Kristin did so, and hung up quickly. Justin was already striding for the door. “Hey!”
“What?”
“You forgot something.”
“What?”
“Me!”
He hesitated. “You’re not coming with me, and you’re not coming around at all, do you hear me?”
Kristin stopped dead before the kitchen door.
“Justin—”
“Sorry,” he said, suddenly harsh. “You’re not getting this story.”
“I’m not concerned because of a story—”
“And you’re not coming!”
“You have to take me back to my car!” Kristin said, amazed. This evening things had been warm, wonderful. She had been certain that he was about to really apologize to her, to tell her that …
That he loved her, and that he knew she wouldn’t have come to his house simply for a story.
But now, suddenly, she barely knew the man before her with the stubborn twist to his jaw. His eyes were like steel, and his will seemed every bit as strong.
“Justin,” she insisted, “you have to take me back to my car!”
He stared at her, turned around and left, letting the door bang shut behind him.
Kristin grabbed her coat and followed him anyway. “Justin!”
He was already in the driver’s seat of the Land Rover. He shouted to her. “Get the hell away, Kristin! Do you hear me? No story tonight. No matter how great you are to sleep with!”
Kristin started to run for the car, but the motor was already revving. Before she could reach it, the car was pulling out of the drive.
Tears of frustration stung her eyes.
He didn’t mean it. He couldn’t mean it. He was just worried about her.
That had to be it, wasn’t it?
She didn’t know. Agonized, angry, uncertain, she kicked the side of the house. It didn’t help any.
And there were no cabs in this neck of the woods, she thought mournfully. It was certainly too far to walk in this weather.
There was only one thing left to do. As soon as Sue and Roger returned, she’d have to take their car.
Angry, anguished, she slowly returned to the house.
It was about an hour before Roger and Sue returned. By then it was well past ten, and Kristin was exhausted, but she had used her time to shower and change and sweep up her hair. She didn’t feel like arriving in jeans. In stockings and a soft black dress and heels, she felt a little more up to the arrogance she was going to need to burst her way back into Justin’s house when Justin was determined that she wasn’t invited.
There was no story tonight … no matter how good she was to sleep with.…
She longed to slam her fists against his chest or to strike him, to make him cry out. There was no choice for her but to believe that he didn’t mean it. She had to go back. Had to.
When the car turned into the drive, Kristin was ready. But when Roger and Sue walked in, Roger, too, had a stubborn set to his jaw.
“He said you’d try to borrow our car and come over,” Roger said.
“What?”
“Kristin, it’s late. Go to bed,” Sue told her.
“I’m not going to bed, and I need to borrow your car, Roger. Just to go and get my own!”
“Kristin, I can’t take you at this time of night!” Roger protested.
Sue looked angry. “You don’t want to go over there! He’s already flirting with that half-witted blonde. Oh, Kristin, I’m so sorry. I like Justin, I encouraged you! But the way he’s acting now … you don’t want to go over there!”
“What half-witted blonde?” Kristin asked.
“That Roxanne Baynes. Honestly, she may be a famous actress, but she’s a twit. Even Roger says so. How Justin could even consider a flirtation with her after having been with you… Kristin, honestly, I am sorry!”
“Sue, don’t worry. You’re going to be a mother, remember? You’ve got to go to bed. But please, let Roger take me for my car. Do you want me to walk?”
“She wouldn’t, would she?” Sue asked Roger uneasily.
Roger shrugged. “You’ve known her as long as I have. She might.”
Sue sighed. “Kristin, he’ll just humiliate you. He’ll leave you standing out in the snow.”
“Sue, let me take care of myself this time, okay? He won’t leave me in the snow. That much I’m sure of. Roger?”
Roger looked unhappy, but he kissed Sue’s cheek and opened the door for Kristin.
Kristin kissed Sue’s cheek, too. “I’ll be all right.”
“I don’t know, Kristin. Someone did murder Myra all those years ago—”
“It wasn’t Justin,” Kristin said certainly. “And I intend to stick to Justin like glue.”
“He won’t let you—”
“I’m not giving him a choice.”
She smiled at Sue with a reckless bravado and prodded Roger out the door. And as soon as they were seated in his Blazer she told him, “I don’t want to get my own car. I just want you to let me off. Then he’ll be stuck with me.”
“Kristin, think about it. What if—” Roger began, his tone anguished.
What if Justin had murdered Myra? She wasn’t going to let him say it.
“There is no ‘what if,’ ” she insisted. “He didn’t do it, I know it.”
Roger clenched his teeth hard. Stubbornly. “I’ll take you there. But I’ll watch you.”
“You can’t watch me. I’m going to stay all night.”
He exhaled. “Damn it, Kristin, you’re almost thirty, and I can’t tell you who and who not to have a relationship with. I can’t follow you into this man’s bedroom. Please, don’t—”
“Roger, I’ll be all right. Just take me there, please.”
He did so, driving in a tense silence. It wasn’t far on the cleared roads. When they reached Justin’s house, he pulled into the drive. There was a huge white limo parked in front of the house, and in front of the limo were two smaller cars.
“I’ll wait,” he said. “In case.”
“In case what?”
“In case he locks you out.”
“Roger, I’m not going to let him.”
“I’ll still wait.”
He could be as stubborn as she was.
Kristin knew he was behind her in the driveway, watching her every move. She knew, too, that if she rang the doorbell, she was asking for trouble. She decided that she might be lucky and find the door unlocked.
It was unlocked. She walked on into the house, waving cheerily to Roger as if she’d been admitted by Justin, and then closed the door softly behind her.
And there she was.
&nbs
p; She stood still in the hallway for a minute, listening. There was laughter coming from the living room. Laughter, talking, the clink of ice against glasses. Some music was playing softly on the stereo. There was the definite feel of a party about the place.
She couldn’t stand in the entryway all night. She moved forward, but hovered by the wall for a minute, trying to discern what she could about the people in the room.
Christina Anderson she recognized instantly from her newspaper photos. She had the kind of hair that slunk low over one eye, dark blond, sexy. She was tall and thin. Poised by the mantel, she looked more like a model or ingenue herself than an agent.
Artie Fein was just the opposite. He was a small man with graying hair, and the frazzled air of a C.P.A. during tax season. He was sitting on the sofa, looking as if he was falling asleep, beside a woman who had to be Sue’s “twit.” Roxanne did not resemble her pictures much. She was much thinner in person, very small, vulnerable looking. Her hair was long and soft and nearly platinum. Her eyes were sky blue, and she had a look of innocence about her that seemed to say she’d be perfect for a role in Arsenic and Old Lace once a few more years had passed her by.
She was pretty, though. Not sleek and beautiful like Christina, but very, very pretty. And she was watching Justin, who sat across the room from her in one of the leather chairs, as if she could eat him up.
Kristin tried to associate the woman in front of her with the woman she had spoken with on the phone. It was difficult. In appearance, she was soft as clouds. On the phone, she had seemed very self-assured and confident, smooth, matter-of-fact, far more assertive than her fragile appearance would lead one to believe.
Kristin didn’t have time to study her further, because a very handsome young blond man standing near Christina Anderson by the fire was looking her way, and smiling with definite interest. Jack Jones. She recognized him from his pictures, too.
“What have we here?” he said softly. “Come in, come in. Justin, you never told us what treasures you’ve been hiding out here in the country.”
Justin hadn’t been expecting any “treasures” that evening, that was obvious.
Of course he knew it had to be Kristin. Even before he stood and turned around and stared at her. His scowl was as dark and dangerous as thunderclouds.
Snowfire Page 17