Diamond Girl

by Diana Palmer

  “Regan,” she whispered drowsily, her voice hungry and soft with love.

  “I could take you now,” he whispered roughly. His hands slid down her sides, brushing her breasts, and still further down until they found the base of her spine.

  His leg edged between hers and his mouth sought hers again, taking it with a lazy, insistent pressure that dragged a moan from her throat. His hands were smoothing her skin, finding the gentle rise of her body with reverence in their touch.

  He bit at her mouth softly and drew away. “I want to kiss you here,” he murmured, emphasizing the whisper with his hands. “You’re like velvet, so soft to touch.” He eased her onto her back and looked down at her body, his face unreadable, his eyes blazing.

  She arched her back like a cat being stroked, faintly shocked at her own abandon. She wasn’t embarrassed with him or shy or even self-conscious. She loved the feel of his eyes, his hands. It was so beautiful with him.

  His fingers caught her waist, pressing into it to test its taut perfection. They moved over her flat stomach, around to her back and lifted her to his mouth.

  She trembled, and an odd little sound surfaced as she felt for the first time the magic of a man’s warm mouth on her soft flesh.

  “I could make a meal of you,” he whispered quietly. “Every time I touch you, I go a little mad.”

  Her fingers stroked his dark, cool hair and her eyes closed on wave after wave of sweet pleasure. “So do I,” she whispered back. She arched, forcing her body closer to his seeking lips. “This is beautiful,” she managed unsteadily. “So...very beautiful.”

  “Come closer, Kenna,” he whispered. His mouth slid up to cover hers, and he folded her into the curve of his body, so that they were closer than they’d ever been.

  She answered the soft hunger of his mouth with a response that dragged a groan from his taut body. His hands at her back trembled slightly, and his hips moved against hers with a strange rhythm.

  “No,” he ground out suddenly. His body stilled and he crushed her for an instant before he let her go and rolled away. He sat up, swinging his legs off the bed, and bent his head into his hands. “No, Kenna.”

  She lay against the pillows, dazed with delightful sensations, staring at him. Her breath trembled into her throat. “Regan?” she whispered.

  He drew in a harsh breath. “I can’t,” he bit off. “Don’t you understand, damn it? I can’t!”

  Her lips trembled. The rejection was so complete that it hurt. She forced herself to sit up, to tug her bra and top back on without saying anything.

  He got to his feet and pulled a cigarette from the pack on the chest of drawers, lighting it with hands that could hardly hold the flame steady. Then he went to the window and stared down at the rose garden it overlooked with blank eyes.

  “It’s because I’m not Jessica, isn’t it?” she asked, getting unsteadily to her feet. “Because nobody can ever take her place with you.”

  He turned, scowling at her. “What the hell are you talking about?” he demanded harshly. “Don’t start trying to shift the blame, honey, you’re the one who came in here after me.”

  “Yes, I did,” she admitted, “but you’re the one who carried me to bed!”

  “Were you protesting?” he asked. “I didn’t notice any maidenly reservations. Just don’t get the idea that once you’re married I’ll be willing to supply what Denny apparently can’t,” he added coldly.

  Her face flamed. “I hope you can type, counselor, because after that crack, you’ll be doing your own damned petitions from now on!”

  “Quitting, are you?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she returned recklessly. “Denny’s going to ask his father to let him work at the corporation, and I’m going, too! You can have the office all to yourself!”

  “I won’t need it,” he said, turning back to the window. “I’m going back to New York next week. Denny and Dad and I settled it a few minutes ago.”

  She wanted to sit down in the middle of the floor and cry. Just for an instant, she considered it, if only to see what he’d do. He’d probably walk over her, she thought miserably.

  With her heart around her ankles, along with her pride, she turned to open the door.

  “I’m sorry I caused you to compromise your principles,” she said bitterly. “I won’t throw myself at you again.”

  “The blame isn’t all yours,” he said wearily. “I can’t seem to keep my hands away from you lately. I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

  “I know.” Tears were welling up in her eyes. “When will you leave?”

  “Monday,” he said firmly. “That attempted-murder case I told you about comes up on the calendar the following week, and I need that time. I don’t intend to lose.”

  “When have you ever lost a case?” she asked with bitter humor. “I hope you get a conviction, counselor.”

  “You and Denny,” he said, “remember to invite me to the wedding.”

  “Sure,” she choked, careful to keep her back to him. “Thanks again for all the help. I’ll pay you back for the clothes just as soon...”

  “Consider them a wedding gift,” he said curtly. “I hope Denny will make you happy.”

  I’m not going to marry Denny, and he’ll never make me happy. I’ll grieve all my life for love of you, she thought in anguish. But she only nodded, and kept the damning words to herself.

  “We won’t talk again,” he said as she opened the door. “Not like this. I hope we’ll part as friends, Kenna.”

  She couldn’t look at him. “You’ll always be my friend,” she said quietly. “As long as I’m alive.”

  “Are you crying?” he asked suddenly.

  “No, of course not.” She walked through the doorway. “I think I’d like to go home after the party. I’ll get Denny to drive me, you won’t have to.”

  “You don’t have to go that far to avoid me,” he said roughly. “Stay. I’ll go back to Atlanta myself.”

  Tears burst over the dam of her lower lids and spilled onto her cheeks. “Damn you,” she choked, “crawl into the grave with her and see if I care!”

  She ran down the hall as if the hounds of hell were after her, ignoring the harsh sound of her name on his lips as he called after her. She went into her own room and slammed the door, locking it. And she stayed there until she was sure Denny and Regan had gone.

  Chapter Nine

  The day dragged after the two men had gone. Kenna tried to stay out of the way when the caterers arrived to start their own preparations for the evening. The florist delivered the arrangements Abbie had ordered, and Angus busied himself in the study while Kenna helped Abbie with last-minute touches in the living room.

  The tables were lovely—covered with white linen and Abbie’s best silver, dotted with fresh flower arrangements and trays waiting to be filled. The kitchen was alive with the caterers as they began to prepare the evening’s canapés and finger foods.

  Abbie rushed around trying to get everything together, but as the afternoon wore on she began to look troubled.

  She checked her watch as she joined Kenna in the living room for a quick cup of coffee. “They should be calling from the airport by now,” she murmured. “Oh, where are they? The guests will be here in just a few hours...Kenna, men have no consideration whatsoever,” she grumbled just before she got up and started back to the kitchen. “And they say women are bad about spending hours talking.”

  Kenna only smiled. “They’ll be here soon,” she said confidently, trying not to think about the fact that the airplane had already malfunctioned once....

  To take her mind off her own worry, Kenna strolled around the grounds with Pooch. He followed her lazily, pausing occasionally to bark at shadows in the woods. She tossed a crust of bread to the swans at the edge of the lake and let her
mind drift to more pleasant thoughts. At least she’d have something of Regan to remember when he went back to New York. A scrapbook of sweet dreams and bits of happiness to tuck away in the back of her mind and bring out on lonely winter nights.

  If only he could have put away his grief. She would have helped him. Not that she’d want him to forget Jessica entirely. Love came in so many forms, each one subtly different and special. It was possible to love more than once, and she couldn’t begrudge Jessica the part of his life she’d shared. He was the kind of man who deserved to be loved deeply and completely. What a pity that he’d decided he could do without love for the rest of his life.

  She ruffled Pooch’s fur and they started back to the house. Abbie was just coming down the tree-lined path, looking for her, with trouble written on her like a slogan.

  “What’s wrong?” Kenna asked without preliminaries, already fearing the worst.

  “The plane went down,” Abbie said hoarsely.

  Kenna stood frozen in the middle of the path, while the world seemed to blacken and die around her. No, it couldn’t be.

  “The plane?” she echoed blankly.

  “Yes,” Abbie said, going close to hug Kenna to her. “Oh, Kenna, they’ve crashed in the damned thing,” she moaned, breaking down completely. “My sons, my boys...!”

  And now Kenna had to believe, because she’d never seen Abbie Cole cry. Numbly, her arms enfolded the shorter woman and she felt a cold ache inside as the full impact hit her. The plane had gone down. It had crashed. With Regan and Denny inside. Regan might be dead.

  She couldn’t remember ever feeling so full of terror. It came over her like a black sickness, blinding her with tears.

  “Oh, no,” she whispered, as if words could stop the nightmare before it began. “No.”

  “Damned plane,” Abbie growled in anguish, her voice breaking. “Damned, damned plane! They promised us it was safe...!”

  Kenna soothed her with hands that felt numb from cold and shock. “How did it happen?”

  “We don’t know.” Abbie pulled away and wiped at her eyes with a big handkerchief before she handed it to Kenna, who hadn’t realized that huge teardrops were rolling down her own pale cheeks. “All we know is that they left Greenville hours ago. When they didn’t arrive at the airport, the airport operator called us. He’s a close friend, you see. He called the Greenville airport to see when they’d filed their flight plan and when they’d left. The mountains...and it’s raining. Oh, my God, why did they have to call that stupid meeting today, of all days? My anniversary...!”

  “It will be all right,” Kenna said quietly, using the routine words that people said at times like this. Words that didn’t mean a damned thing.

  “I hope so, Kenna,” Abbie groaned. “I hope so! Come on. We’re going out to the airport. I can’t sit here and wait for telephone calls. I’ve got to be where I can find out something.”

  Angus was already pulling his car keys out of his pocket when they got back to the house, his face hard and grim and so much like Regan’s that Kenna burst into fresh tears.

  “Regan was flying,” Angus told the women as they got into his Mercedes and started for the airport. “He’s levelheaded at the controls and he’s flown combat missions. If it was possible to bring that plane down in one piece, he’d have done it.”

  “Pilot error accounts for most accidents,” Abbie agreed, “but equipment failure accounts for its share. And that damned plane’s already gone down once,” she reminded her husband with trembling lips.

  Kenna, sitting in the backseat with fear numbing her body, listened without trying to join in the conversation. “Regan,” she whispered, “oh, God, please let Regan be alive, please don’t let him die. Please don’t let him die.”

  “If they walk away from this one, I’ll have that machine taken apart piece by piece and melted down,” Angus promised curtly.

  “Do they have any idea, any at all, where it might have gone down?” Abbie was asking. “Those mountains around Toccoa, or near Robertstown...”

  “That would have been off their flight path,” Angus murmured.

  “Yes, but it’s raining. They might have been blown off course. Or if their instruments malfunctioned...Angus, I can’t bear to lose them both.” She broke down. “Oh, God, I’ve covered so many plane crashes! I know too much about what happens, things that never get into print because they’re too horrible.”

  “Stop it,” Angus said quietly. “Just calm down and stop thinking the worst. Don’t borrow trouble, darling.”

  “I’m sorry.” Abbie dabbed at her eyes and turned to look back at Kenna. “Are you all right?”

  Kenna nodded. “Will it be a long time, before we know?”

  Angus shrugged. “I don’t know,” he said with suppressed emotion in his deep voice. His hands tightened on the steering wheel. “Maybe we’ll get lucky.”

  “Our anniversary,” Abbie murmured miserably, and sniffed back fresh tears. “I told the caterers to take care of the guests if we’re not back—it’s too late to cancel. And I...I just can’t start phoning people now....”

  “One step at a time, Abbie,” Angus said gently. He reached over and caught his wife’s hand in his and held it firmly. “We’ll wait and pray and hope for the best.”

  “Yes, Angus,” the tearful woman agreed, returning the pressure with her own fingers.

  Kenna, watching them, began to understand what Abbie saw in the older man. He’s like Regan, she thought. He’s strong and gentle and like a rock when she needs someone to lean on. That brought the tears back, and she dragged a tissue from her purse.

  Later, she huddled next to Abbie on the bare wood bench outside the airport office, watching the gray skies with eyes that didn’t even see. Despite the fact that the plane was overdue and very likely down somewhere, Abbie couldn’t stop herself from looking for it. Greenville was only a little less than a two-hour drive from Gainesville; it was hardly any distance at all. How could it have happened? The thunderstorm might have driven them off course, but the airport manager said that they hadn’t radioed in. The Atlanta Flight Service had phoned him when the twin-engine plane was overdue, and a telephone search had resulted as they called airport after airport looking for the missing pilot and his passenger.

  “We’re going to be soaked if we stay out here, I guess,” Abbie said, “but I’ll be damned if I can go inside and listen...” Her voice broke and she burst into tears again. “I can’t bear to lose them,” she confessed.

  Kenna hugged her close with a sob. “Neither can I,” she confessed. Her lower lip trembled and the runway blurred in front of her eyes. “Abbie, if anything happens to him, I don’t think I can bear to go on living.”

  The older woman drew back to look into Kenna’s tormented eyes. “Regan?” she asked.

  Kenna nodded. “Regan.”

  “My dear,” Abbie said helplessly. She put her arms around the younger woman and they sat there in the rain, comforting each other, while the skies darkened and the mist settled around them.

  Angus brought them cups of steaming black coffee. “It will be dark soon,” he said. “They won’t start searching until tomorrow morning, if it comes to that.” He shrugged his broad shoulders as he scanned the skies. “Even if they went down safely, it would probably take time to get to a telephone. There are lots of rural areas between here and Greenville....”

  “Yes, that’s true,” Abbie said numbly. “But there are lots of hilly places—the mountains to the west.”

  “Come inside, both of you,” Angus said gently. “You’ll have pneumonia, sitting out here.”

  “I can’t stand it in there,” Kenna whispered.

  “Neither can I,” Abbie agreed. “You’ll call us...?”

  “Angus!” the airport manager called. “In here!”

  Angus pause
d, as if he would have liked to protect the women from what he might hear, as if he wanted to forbid them to come in with him. But Abbie and Kenna were already on their feet, looking as if they’d fight him if he tried to stop them. He shrugged, and drew them into the office with him.

  The manager was laughing. Laughing! “They’re fine,” he said without preamble, a microphone in one hand. “Regan got the plane down okay, but they’ve had a cold, wet wait for the rescuers. He landed it in a cow pasture in northeast Georgia.”

  “What the hell happened?” Angus demanded, fear giving way to anger.

  “The instrument panel caught fire and they had to put down. Regan managed to ditch in time, so that the emergency location transmitter remained intact. But their navigation equipment had been damaged and they were way off course. A private plane caught the signal and relayed it to ground-rescue units.” He grinned. “Would you like me to tell you the odds against landing a twin-engine plane in a cow pasture? Good thing he flew fighters in Nam, wasn’t it, Angus?”

  Angus was laughing, but there were tears of relief in his eyes. “Good thing,” he admitted. He paused to catch his breath. “Where are they now?”

  “On their way here,” the operator said, grinning. “An old flying buddy of mine’s bringing them down in his own plane.”

  Kenna was crying quietly, along with Abbie, and she offered up a silent prayer of thanks. The light had come back into her life. Despite the rain and gloom of the past few hours, it was beautiful to be alive and in the same world with Regan. Even if she never saw him again, that would be all right now. He was alive. Thank God, he was alive.

  The next half an hour seemed to take forever, while Kenna drank black coffee with the others and scanned the dark skies with eyes that were hungry for sight of a beloved face. She was bedraggled and wet through and through. One of the airport people had loaned her his sweater, and Abbie had Angus’s jacket, but Kenna didn’t even feel the cold.