The receiver was wrenched from her hand before she had dialed the first number.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Derek demanded hotly. He must have moved like an Indian into the parlor, she hadn’t heard a sound.
“Leaving.”
“The hell you are!” Derek propelled her toward his office. “Shane and Bobby are here. We’re going to work.”
They did work, for hours. Derek barely allowed her a cup of coffee before they began, which startled no one. He was a strict taskmaster, which they all knew, yet he demanded nothing of anyone he wouldn’t give himself. Leigh knew that he was most rigid on concert tours, when he jogged five miles a day and refused even a glass of wine with dinner.
They broke late in the afternoon, and when they did, Leigh was trapped thoroughly in a way Derek must have known she would be. Blue-eyed Shane McHugh and eloquent Bobby Welles were, if possible, more enthusiastic about the project than Roger and John had been. They, too, insisted that Leigh must be a part of her own work. Bobby filled her head with images of videodiscs and Shane suggested that they could film a complete program to be sold to various subscription television networks.
“Of course, Leigh,” Derek said with sickening sincerity, a look of understanding sympathy on his face that should have won an Emmy, “we will not force you to join us. We can always hire Samantha Downing to do the female harmonies and sections.”
Leigh tensed in her chair, but smiled brightly. She would never let Derek know how deeply his barb had struck. Samantha Downing was a singer with a voice like a crystal angel. She had also been one of Richard’s first outside “affairs.” Did Derek know that?
“That won’t be necessary,” Leigh said. Derek had sprung another trap, but in this instance her pride forced her to walk into it open-eyed. She batted shy, conniving lashes. “Since you all are willing to bear with my inexperience, I’ll thank you for your patience and enjoy the ride!”
It was the perfect response. The cluster of males, minus Derek, hastened to scurry to her and assure her they were more than willing to be as patient and helpful as she would need.
The real party, which followed their rehearsal, was an enjoyable occasion, even though Leigh knew that all present were secretly mulling over the new relationship between her and Derek with glee. What could be more fitting? Derek, caring for his best friend’s widow. Leigh, who knew them all, who loved and understood music, with Derek …
Angela McHugh and Tina Welles had come over with Shane and Bobby and Bobby’s little girl, Lara. Emma and James were off for the evening since Miami and the Beach had recovered quickly from the effects of the storm. They had, Derek informed Leigh as he escorted her into the kitchen to assist Angie and Tina, made a cute couple as they left for a dinner at Joe’s Stone Crab, the proper Englishman and the plump American matron.
“The boys are barbecuing,” Angie said as she gave Leigh an alarmingly happy hug. “So we’re throwing together some salad and wrapping up some ears of corn.”
It was easy, Leigh thought, as she chatted with Angie and Tina, to remember how nice it had been when they had all gotten together. She and the other two wives had become fast friends as had their husbands; they had enjoyed the times when they had been able to meet as a group, any set of normal couples leisurely whiling time away with amiable company.
The conversation between the women was general at first. Little Lara tottered among them, lisping but sweet as she broke in occasionally with her childish voice. She was a beautiful little girl, Leigh thought with a pang, but then she had beautiful parents. Beautiful, happy parents. Bobby Welles, she knew, could be set in the middle of a bevy of naked beauties and he wouldn’t notice a one of them. He adored Tina. They had the kind of marriage Leigh had believed that she and Richard would have.
And it was beautiful raven-haired Tina who dropped their bantering chatter to demand, “Why didn’t you keep in touch with us, Leigh? Angie and I both wrote …”
Leigh raised her hands helplessly. A painful spasm ripped suddenly through her muscles. For a moment she saw their last meeting clearly in her mind, like the slow-motion, brightly colored replay on a television set. Richard lay in an oak box while the birds sang and the sun shone; Derek stood beside her, though distant, a pillar of strength. Tina, Angie, Roger, and the others and a host of strangers to mourn the passing of a brilliant star moved by them, tears in their eyes, unspoken sympathy showing in their drawn faces.
Then they were all gone. All except her and Derek, and Richard between them in the dirt. Then Derek had broken. The towering, proud giant broke and tears came streaming down his face. Leigh tried to comfort him despite the gulf that lay between them. But he wanted nothing from her, he told her in no uncertain terms. She was, he railed, anger and hate returning his strength, a witch, a lying, hypocritical witch. He had had a few more choice words for her before turning on his heel abruptly and leaving.
“I—I needed some time,” Leigh said lamely. Roger, as did Derek, had known trouble had stirred between Leigh and Richard. But even he hadn’t known about the impending divorce.
“Sure,” Tina said, her voice husky. “But time does heal all wounds.”
“Hey!” Angie declared, sweeping little Lara into her arms. “If we don’t get this corn out we’ll never eat! And I’m starving!”
“Starvin’!” repeated little Lara with round eyes.
Leigh chuckled and reached for the little girl, softly touched by the feel of her chubby hands. Would she ever hold such a wonderful bundle of love of her own? It was doubtful. She would be twenty-eight on her next birthday, not old—certainly!—but time was passing by.
“I’m starvin’ too, Lara! Let’s go hurry your daddy,” Leigh said.
As the night wore on, Derek continued in his subtle ways to give the impression that he and Leigh were now a twosome. Tina and Angie would sometimes glue their heads together in soft conversation, and Leigh supposed they were happily considering the chances of a second marriage. She wanted to laugh bitterly. What would they think, she wondered, if she were to stand and calmly announce that Derek didn’t give a damn for her, that the whole charade was some type of malicious revenge?
They would think she was crazy. Derek was displaying his complete, suave animalistic charm. He was devastating in the starlight, his jeans tight over his trim hips, his shirt casually unbuttoned and showing the breadth of his deep bronze chest When he spoke and smiled, his teeth would flash white and perfect against his rugged jawline, his eyes would sparkle like gold against the copper of his strong features. His fingers often touched upon Leigh, awakening her every nerve, sending her into chills of trembling each time.
What if … she began to ask herself, what if she went along with his little game. How would he react if she pounced upon him in return, became in public the loving mistress he pretended her to be? She would certainly throw him off, and perhaps find out just what part this mock tenderness played in his ultimate plan.
She didn’t have the nerve! She could act all she wanted, but Derek had the strength. He had the power, because he cared nothing for her while she … was going to do it!
She would beat Derek Mallory at his own game!
She might wind up shattered later, but he would never know it. He wanted to think of her as a conniving little cheat, well, by golly, that was exactly what he was going to get. He had said he desired her. When she finished with him, he was going to go crazy with his desire. He wanted everyone to think they were together, she would verify that reasoning. And then she would turn on him, as he had turned on her.
She began with the subtlety he employed himself, fingering his hair as she jauntily checked on the barbecue, pretending to massage his back when he chanced to sit near her, even going so far as to pat his firm rear end when he passed her on his way to the cooler for another beer.
His stunned response left her hard put not to burst into gales of laughter. Unfortunately, her triumph didn’t last long. Derek learned to stifle his surprise a
nd in return dropped all pretense of subtlety. She learned abruptly that the tide had changed when she teasingly caressed his neck, only to be drawn into a long and barely controlled kiss, enjoyed with relish by the entire company.
As the fabled moon moved high over Miami, they moved the party inside. Leigh accompanied Tina upstairs to put Lara to sleep in her portable crib, then returned to the game room with the others. Derek caught her as she entered, and maneuvered her into a position where she half reclined against his chest. It was a loving scene, she thought ruefully. His hand moved along her rib cage familiarly and settled beneath her breast as he casually chatted.
“Oh, Leigh!” Tina impulsively interrupted the discussion on the light area damage of the hurricane. “It is so wonderful to have you here with us again!”
“It sure is!” Bobby echoed, hugging his wife closer to him.
“Wonderful,” Derek repeated, and only Leigh caught the sardonic inflection in his tone.
Angela muttered something quickly to Bobby in the Italian he had begun to understand and then smiled at the group mischievously. “And so wonderful that it seems you will be with us for a long time, yes?”
An idea ripped madly through Leigh’s head. It was the perfect time to call Derek’s bluff. Did she dare? She giggled, thinking, the devil made me do it. True in a way. Derek was the closest thing to a real devil she had ever met.
“Oh, darling!” she crooned. “We should tell them!”
Derek jerked and stared down at her adoringly angled head, his eyes narrowing and his pulse suddenly increasing. “Tell them what, darling?”
“Really, Derek!” she admonished, pushing playfully from him. “He’s so shy!” she exclaimed to the group, a very convincing, loving smile glued to her tolerant lips. She chanced a quick glance his way to find his jaw stiff and eyes glittering suspiciously. She plunged on quickly, “Well, darling, I think they should know.” Her smile increased and she faked tremulous tears. “Derek and I are going to be married, as soon as we finish the new album.”
Derek’s muscles tensed as if he had been hit by a red-hot poker. She could feel the terrible steel coils of his thighs beside hers as the group went pin-dropping silent. Then Angela and Tina jumped to their feet simultaneously, followed by their husbands, to rush to her and Derek and voice their sincere happiness and congratulations.
Leigh felt the first horrible pangs of guilt over her ridiculous announcement. These people were her friends as well as Derek’s. There was no need to have involved them in their private problems, no need to have created such excitement, which could only be dashed cruelly upon the shore of lies. At least, she assumed, it would all be over quickly. Derek would now have to denounce her and she would explain it had all been a joke …
But Derek did no such thing. After his initial astonishment, he grinned, accepted the congratulations of his friends, and eyed Leigh levelly.
“Really, Leigh!” he mocked her with silky tones. “Now that you’ve let the cat out of the bag, as they say, why should we wait till we finish the album? I never did believe in long engagements. I’m sure we can arrange something nice and suitable in the next few weeks.”
It was Leigh’s turn to be totally astounded. She couldn’t think of a thing to say. Once more her move had viciously backfired. She could only sit and listen to the plans that ricocheted around her, suggestions from Tina and Angela, winks and chuckles from Bobby and Shane, heartfelt good wishes from John and Roger.
It was late when the company finally pulled from the drive. Leigh tried to escape Derek while he said his last good-byes and to race up the stairway before he could catch her, but she never had the chance. He maintained an iron clasp around her until the final car, Roger’s gray Mercedes, disappeared down the moonlit path.
“What’s the hurry, love?” he demanded dryly as he felt her preparing to spring from him. “Shouldn’t we be discussing our wedding plans? Or perhaps be wallowing in the ecstasy of our love beneath this silver moon?”
“If I’m with you, darling,” Leigh retorted, “I’m already wallowing.”
“Tsk! Tsk! That mouth of yours will get you into trouble one day,” Derek warned, ushering her back into the house. “Go to bed. I want you up and ready by seven tomorrow morning!”
“For what?”
“The Overseas Highway has been cleared for traffic. I want to leave early.”
“For Key West?”
“Yes.”
“Why do you want to go with me now?” Leigh asked, her voice caught between bitterness and pleading. “You know I’ll come back. You know that I want to do the album now!”
“You don’t like Samantha Downing, huh?” Derek shrugged indifferently. “It doesn’t matter. You don’t think I’d let my beloved fiancée take that long drive by herself, do you?”
Leigh breathed a sigh of disgust and gripped the banister of the stairway tightly. “I’m sorry I came out with that, Derek, I really am. I was sure you’d come out with the truth. But we have to stop this ridiculousness now.”
“Maybe I’m really intending to marry you.”
“Hell!” Leigh sniffed. “And I wouldn’t marry you—”
“Or,” Derek mused, ignoring her statement of derision, “maybe I just want to bed a hot—” He captured her hand in midair as it sailed toward him. “Or maybe I want to make sure your friend in the Keys hears about this. Maybe I want to meet him and be sure to let him know, after I blacken both his eyes, what it feels like when the woman you love jumps into bed with another man.”
Anger surged through her like a rushing tide as she stood a prisoner of his encircling fingers. “You can say we’re living together, Derek, or you can say we’re engaged. Believe it or not, you won’t be ruining anything—”
“Oh? You mean he doesn’t care if he shares you?”
Leigh ignored that. “And you won’t find anyone’s eyes to blacken.” He had begun to lead her up the stairs. “But my strongest promise is this, Derek Mallory, I will never jump into your bed!”
“Why not?” He was amused suddenly, chuckling. “You’ve jumped into it before.”
“By accident!” Leigh exclaimed. “You know I was locked out! You know that I didn’t know that was your bed!”
“Ah, but, love,” Derek said gravely, “that’s not the occasion I’m talking about!”
In a split second Leigh’s hands became clammy; the hairs on the back of her neck seemed to stand straight with cold, creeping fear.
“What …” She was choking, her throat constricted. “What are you talking about?” That was better. Her demand came off with irritation.
“You don’t know?”
“Of course not!” Good, she was indignant.
Derek smiled lazily, his eyes like some feline predator in the dim light. “Maybe you’ll think of it. Good night.” He moved on down the hall to his own bedroom doorway. “Oh, Leigh, don’t forget, seven A.M. And be ready, or I’ll drag you out of bed and dress you myself.”
“That should be a new one for you,” Leigh muttered crossly beneath her breath. “I would imagine you’re much more experienced with undressing women!”
He turned and she cringed, startled that he had heard her.
“I’m quite good at that, too, my love,” he said gravely, a mocking smile stealing into the corners of his sensuous lips. “You’ll have to try me sometime … again.”
Leigh had nothing else to say. She slammed into her room, fighting the shakes as she tried to assure herself that she had imagined Derek’s last word. He couldn’t be referring to Atlanta, he couldn’t be! If he had had any suspicions regarding her, he would have confronted her long ago. Besides, he was still determined to find his mysterious and missing date.
Uneasily convinced, Leigh drifted into sleep. Derek, she decided, before succumbing to the comfort of a restful blankness, had merely discovered a new way to taunt her. Her lips curved into a soft, groggy smile. Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt … Darkness claimed her
, shutting out any reminders of just how painful words could be.
As they passed through Homestead the following morning, the disc jockey’s blaring voice from the Audi’s AM/FM radio announced an uninterrupted hour of music by the London Company. Derek, driving, impatiently moved to change the station, telling Leigh sourly that he was not in the mood to hear his own voice.
“Leave it, please,” Leigh requested. It was the newest album that would be played, one that she had purchased, but had not been able to bring herself to listen to yet.
Derek, softened perhaps by her politeness, shrugged. He wore dark sunglasses as he drove, preventing her from seeing any of his thoughts.
The album was a pleasant mix of lighthearted fast tunes and soul-reaching ballads. One was about a child, and as Leigh glanced at Derek he said yes, he had written it especially for Bobby about Lara. The next was a hard, fast piece, the type that toes automatically tap to, about a “vixen beauty” who lied and cheated her way from man to man. Leigh wondered if that particular song had been written with her in mind, but she didn’t glance to Derek for confirmation and he kept silent.
The final song of the set, though, was the one that caused her heart to throb in fast-paced agony. She knew beyond a doubt that Derek had written it for and about his mystery woman. His voice filled-the small Audi with agonizing clarity, husky with emotion.
I remember you like a golden sunset;
I remember you like a fireside.
Crystal dreams and emerald seas
Lord, love, how you please.
Silver lady of the night
Disappears with dawn’s first light …
There was more, but Leigh blocked out the words. She lit a cigarette and stared out the window. They were losing the station anyway.
When Next We Love Page 9