by Nancy Bush
“No, Billy. You can’t—” She was cut off by another cough that nearly doubled her over, but she slapped away Tremaine’s automatic move to help her.
“It’s all right,” Billy said. “Dr. Danner give me money.” With the lithe swiftness of a river rat he slipped around Tremaine again and was gone.
“You shouldn’t have,” the woman said.
“And how do you expect me to sleep at night?” Tremaine asked with a faint smile, helping her back to the dusty couch near the fire. “What else can I get you?”
“Nothin’.” She patted his hand for all the world as if she were comforting him. “You get some sleep. You look plumb tuckered out.”
Fifteen minutes later, Tremaine strode somberly down the building’s garbage strewn front steps, breathing deeply of the tangy river-scented night air. He walked quickly toward his buggy, paid off the street urchin he’d hired to watch it, then climbed into the driver’s seat. His mind was numb. He’d spent the last few months mired in this dreadful corner of East Portland. No one else at Willamette Infirmary had wanted to. Only Tremaine, who had his own demons to battle, cared for a fight that was lost before it was begun.
Something crackled in his pocket as he guided Fortune toward the ferry dock, which would take him back to the west side. He thrust his fingers inside and encountered a stiff vellum envelope. Celeste Monteith’s invitation.
Tremaine sighed. He was tired, and it was late — too late to attend the party. Besides, Celeste had written in her flowery hand that she’d invited Lexie too. Tremaine had to avoid her at all cost.
Lexie. Just the thought of her made him feel tight and hot inside. He’d tracked down Flynne in the hopes of learning more about Eliza’s past but the man had stonewalled him. Tremaine had spent the better part of the last four months fighting his feelings for Lexie, while wondering if the threat to her and Eliza was even real.
Half an hour later, he was driving through the easternmost section of Nob Hill, on the way to his rooming house. To the northwest the mass of sailing vessels could be seen along the waterfront. The closer Tremaine got to them, the closer he came to the bawdiest, most raucous section of town. A man had to be careful not to be crimped and forced into a voyage he wasn’t ready for if he chose to walk those streets alone at night.
Tremaine let himself into his rooming house and climbed the stairs. He opened the door to his room and stood in the center of the apartment. It wasn’t really home. He’d never intended to practice in Portland as long as he had. He’d always intended to go back to Rock Springs.
From the view of his third-floor window he could see the brothels and piers along the waterfront. Willamette infirmary was within walking distance. Miss Everly’s school was deep within Nob Hill’s sheltering walls. And Silas Monteith’s house was only half an hour away…
A wave of uncontrollable longing swept over him. “Damn it all to hell,” he growled, stripping off his clothes. He had to see Lexie. She would most certainly hate him, but he didn’t care.
If she wasn’t at the party, he would track her down at Miss Everly’s school.
¤ ¤ ¤
Lexie swirled beneath the chandeliers, light glancing off their glistening tiers to sparkle in her hair. She was dying! Her face was flushed and perspiration trickled down her back. She should have listened to Ella and worn the emerald taffeta; the velvet was much too hot.
“So you attend school with Miss Celeste,” the gentleman who was her current dance partner remarked.
“Yes,” said Lexie, breathlessly.
“A fine school.”
“Yes.”
Her vision was a blur; her ears were full of music and the general din of chattering voices. She was thirsting for punch and was about to beg off when the small orchestra on the dais finally trailed off in a weak finish of their last number.
Lexie excused herself from the portly gentleman and made a beeline for the punch bowl. An ironic smile played on her lips. Celeste’s reason for inviting her was now painfully apparent; Lexie handled the lascivious older men, Celeste the well-heeled younger ones. There had been no chance for Lexie to dance with some of the dashing rogues who stood along the sidelines. Celeste made certain their attention always came back to her.
Not that Lexie really much cared, but it galled her to be duped and used by Celeste so dreadfully. And she was tired of the vicious looks being sent her way by the light-footed old codgers’ grim-eyed wives. What had ever possessed her to agree to come to this party?
You needed to get away from your own thoughts, a voice inside her head reminded her. The gaiety of an evening out — like so many other evenings she’d spent the last few months — was all that kept her from thinking of Tremaine. The memory of her night with him seemed burned on her brain; nothing could erase it. Yet recalling it was a torture too great to bear.
“Miss Danner, please excuse me,” a deep voice intoned. “I’ve been a terrible host. I haven’t had a chance to meet my daughter’s best friend.”
Lexie’s head jerked around, her hand sloshing a bit of punch onto the white linen-covered serving table. “Best friend?” she repeated on a smothered giggle.
“I’m Silas Monteith,” he said. “Would you care to dance?”
The man before Lexie was burly and square, with sleek silvery hair, a hard chin, and disinterested eyes. She suddenly remembered seeing him at the hospital when Ella was sick — and in that moment she remembered the familiar-seeming man she met earlier as well. He’d been in the reception area. He’d learned her name and asked where she lived. Why, she wondered somewhat uneasily, had he pretended not to know her tonight?
“I’m really kind of thirsty,” Lexie murmured softly. “Could we just wait this one out?”
“If you wish.” He smiled, the effort seeming to stretch his lips. “Celeste told me she was inviting someone from school but I had no idea you would be such a beauty.”
Lexie sipped her punch, seeking the small distraction to hide her expression. She’d taken an instant dislike to Celeste’s father. “Thank you.”
They stood in relative silence as couples swished by to the strains of an intricate piece. When the music ended there was a smattering of applause. Lexie clapped politely.
“Please, let’s dance,” Mr. Monteith urged as the next song began. His fingers around her arm were insistent.
Lexie would have given anything to melt into nothingness but there was no way she could insult her host. With a smile nearly as phony as Monteith’s, she let him lead her to the dance floor and take her into his arms.
His hand was sweaty as he clasped her palm. Lexie had to fight the urge to snatch hers back and wipe it on her dress. Swallowing her revulsion, she fell into step.
“Celeste tells me you’re from Rock Springs,” Monteith commented. He held her a proper distance away and for that Lexie was thankful.
“That’s right. Born and raised there.”
“It’s a farming community, isn’t it?”
Lexie slanted him a look. He seemed genuinely interested, almost too interested. The man fairly hung on her every word. “Mainly. There’s not much industry yet, but Rock Springs is growing by leaps and bounds.” She glanced around, wondering where she could escape to as soon as the music stopped.
“I was thereabouts once,” he reflected. “And then, of course, I’ve had business dealings with your mother, Eliza.”
“Really?”
“She’s an investor with my shipbuilding company.”
Your mother met with an investment banker and her money’s been invested wisely in several profitable shipbuilding companies…
Tremaine’s words came back with a painful jar. So Eliza had invested with Monteith. How ironic. Lexie didn’t think she’d trust Monteith with a nickel.
At that moment there was a slight commotion from the direction of one of Silas’s older friends. The man had imbibed a bit too much and had stumbled and crashed into the couple dancing next to Lexie.
Monteith pulle
d Lexie away from the shouts of laughter and general confusion. Lexie would have chosen that moment to end their dance but Monteith held her tight in his arms and said, “Lexington’s unusual name. Are you named for Lexington, Kentucky?”
“Uh… yes…”
“Is that where your mother’s from?”
Lexie hesitated. She was growing uncomfortable under all his questions. “Yes.”
“She must be from a very wealthy family, having so much of her own money.”
“I suppose she is,” Lexie murmured, finding his curiosity in very bad taste. To her relief the song finally came to a close. “If you’ll excuse me, I really need some fresh air.”
Lexie was so intent on escape, she nearly tripped on her long skirts in her haste. It wasn’t until she was almost to the open balcony doors that she recognized the tall man standing near an empty alcove.
Tremaine’s blue gaze stripped right to her soul.
Lexie’s heart nearly stopped. On a strangled gasp she made a dash for the doors. She felt Tremaine’s gaze following her as she stepped into the cool spring night and gulped air. What was he doing here?
“Lexie,” he said behind her.
Goosebumps rose on her flesh. Her shoulders stiffened. She glanced desperately around for some means to leave the balcony, but apart from a two-story jump to the back lawn, there was no avenue of escape.
She felt him directly in back of her. He had the unbelievable nerve to clasp her upper arms with his strong fingers. Lexie swallowed another gasp and wrenched herself free, whirling to face him. “Leave me alone, Tremaine,” she hissed.
“I’ve been trying to.”
“Well, you’ve been doing an excellent job until tonight!”
“It’s been hell.”
This admission stole her breath away. She couldn’t bear to meet his gaze. For months she’d ached for him, hating herself for wanting him even after he’d cold heartedly used and left her. To hear from his own lips that he’d suffered, hit her like a blow to the stomach.
She dragged her gaze from his beloved face. Did he have to be so damnably male? One look into those eyes and she felt a powerful, primal longing that made her want to fall into his arms.
“Go away,” Lexie said almost pleasantly, though her voice shook ever so slightly. “Because I don’t want to see you ever again.”
He sighed. “Fair enough. I suppose I deserve that.”
“You deserve that and much, much more,” she assured him, her pride returning in a rush of glorious fury. She glanced upward, her eyes sparking. “You left me!”
“I know.”
“You didn’t even bother to see how I felt, how I survived that next day! You were in too much of a rush to meet your lady friend in Rock Springs to even bother with me!”
Tremaine’s brows snapped together. “Jenny? That’s not—”
Lexie didn’t wait to hear any excuses. The way he said that woman’s name was enough to make her forget every bit of poise and sophistication she’d learned at this godawful school. She doubled her right fist and slammed it into his stomach, reacting with the outrage of a younger sibling rather than the cold fury of a woman scorned.
Tremaine bent over, gasping and laughing. “For God’s sake, Lexie,” he managed to say, but she was on him like a prizefighter, beating on his shoulders and back and head.
“You’re — a — miserable — blackhearted — coward!” she panted, then found her arms pinned behind her by a very angry man. “Let me go, damn you!” She writhed and twisted but he held on with grim determination.
He pushed her to the edge of the balustrade, his blue eyes lit by a cold, furious light. “Shut up a minute and let me think!”
“You’ve had months to think. Months!” To her fury, tears scalded the back of her throat, burned her eyes. “So, your conscience finally got the better of you and you decided to face me,” she added scathingly, hiding her real feelings as best she could. “Well, I don’t care, Tremaine. As far as I’m concerned, you don’t exist!”
“Does this feel like I don’t exist?” he snapped back, squeezing her arms so tightly she felt they would break. “Damn you, Lexie,” he bit out under his breath. “You really try my patience.”
Lexie narrowed her eyes. Her whole body was trembling, her breasts heaving with outrage and injustice. “I try your patience? You seduced me, then left me for your — your—”
“I seduced you? Who was it that followed me to the barn, dressed in a silk wrapper, and wouldn’t leave even when I ordered her out? Who was it who wound herself around me when—”
Lexie thrust against his chest with all her might, closing her ears. “Don’t say it! Don’t say it!”
“Why not? Because you can’t stand hearing the truth?”
Lexie turned her face away to fight back the tears battling against her pride. She couldn’t answer him because he was right. It was her mistake for believing he cared about her in a special way.
Slowly, he released her wrists. She could feel his gaze on her but she refused to meet his eyes. “Why did you come here tonight?”
Tremaine drew a breath. “I’m honoring my invitation.”
Lexie blinked. “Invitation?” He showed her the vellum envelope and she said bitterly, “Celeste seems to have a penchant for sending you invitations.”
“I don’t give a damn about Celeste. I came because she wrote on the invitation that you would be here. I need to talk to you.”
“I don’t want to talk to you,” whispered Lexie painfully, pulling away from him.
“Lexie. Wait. Please.”
“I can’t.” Blindly, she walked back inside the stifling ballroom. She headed in the direction of the punch, then stopped. She needed to get out of here.
Turning, she walked straight into Tremaine’s chest. “Oh, Lexie…” he murmured, folding his arms around her.
Her head jerked up, startled. But they could have been one of the dancing couples; no one paid them any attention.
Against her will, she felt the hard muscles of his chest; the steel strength of his arms; the warmth of his brandy-tinged breath. A pulsing wave of desire turned her legs to quivering liquid. His grip tightened as he felt her weaken.
“You left me, Tremaine,” she said again. “You left me.”
“I had to, Lexie. Or the same thing would have happened again.”
It took her brain half a beat to understand. She nearly choked. “You flatter yourself!”
“We would have slept together again at the first chance if I hadn’t left. I couldn’t risk that.”
Lexie was horrified at his high-handed arrogance. “You’re — awfully sure of yourself!”
“Can you deny it?” He drew away to look into her eyes. It was impossible to lie with those sharp blue eyes assessing her so thoroughly. Lexie swallowed and said nothing at all. She would have slept with him again. Lord help her, she wanted to now!
She tried to squirm away from him, but he led her to the dance floor, jerking her tight against his masculine shape as they began to waltz. If she’d been hot before, she was burning up now.
“Lexie,” he added in a low voice that made her throb with awareness. “I’ve spent the last few months in a state of constant rage and frustration. All I could think about was wanting you.”
“Oh, right. That’s why you told Pa you didn’t want anyone finding out we were related.”
“I didn’t tell Pa that. It was his idea.”
She couldn’t stand one more lie! Lexie’s emotions were crashing inside her. Her skin felt sensitized from his touch. Wanton desires raged through her, and she remembered his legs wrapped around hers, the sweet pressure of him thrusting her against the blanket.
She shook her head. She couldn’t be his mistress — and he’d already made it clear, by his actions, that that was all he really wanted.
“Lexie, listen to me,” he muttered through his teeth.
“No! You may not worry about your reputation but I’ve got to worry about mine
! I’m not going to make that mistake again.”
His eyes darkened stormily. “Was it a mistake?”
“Yes!” she hissed.
“You felt something that night, Lexie. Admit it. You never would have slept with me if you hadn’t felt something.”
“All I felt was loathing and disgust!”
Tremaine stared bemusedly into her flashing green eyes, then threw back his head and laughed. Lexie, for all her weeks of hating him and blaming herself, could almost see the humor of the situation. Almost.
“Well, I guess I’ll have to work harder at making certain you feel something more positive.”
Lexie missed a step and trotted on his toe. Tremaine’s infuriating arrogance made her absolutely crazy, but the thought of sleeping with him again sent her blood singing through her veins.
“Forgot the waltz already?” he said near her ear. “Remember, one-two-three, one-two-three—”
“I know how to waltz!” Purposely, she ground her shoe into his toe again, then narrowed her eyes at his unabashed grin. But she couldn’t deny that she loved him. As much as she’d tried to kill that love, it still existed. And her heart felt lighter than it had in months.
A reluctant sparkle of mirth glinting in her eyes, Lexie met his gaze. Her breath caught at the deep desire simmering in his eyes like a blue flame.
“Dr. Danner!” Celeste trilled out in delighted triumph. “There you are! And here I was afraid you might have mislaid my invitation.” She swept toward Lexie and Tremaine in a rustle of silk and satin and shimmering diamonds. Her fingers clutched Tremaine’s arm. “A dance?” she asked coquettishly. “It’s my birthday.”
Lexie, needing a moment to gain perspective, said quickly, “Tremaine would love to dance with you. I’m afraid my waltzing is still amateurish.”
“Then we’ll have to have another lesson,” Tremaine said meaningfully, but Celeste was already tugging him towards the dance floor. “Don’t go anywhere,” he warned Lexie, meeting her gaze over Celeste’s blond head.
As soon as they were engulfed by the glittering crowd, Lexie ignored his edict and headed for the door. Tremaine could make her forget him without offering one word of apology. He could make her forget all about Jenny McBride. He could make her forget the way he walked out on her.