The Passionate Lover

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The Passionate Lover Page 11

by Carole Mortimer


  'Yes.' He stood up to help her back on with her coat, his touch impersonal.

  They didn't speak as they walked towards the departure area, Shelby trying desperately to hold back the tears, knowing Kyle wouldn't appreciate such a show of emotion from her.

  They stopped a short distance away from the departure desk, Shelby giving a bright smile as she looked up at the man she loved with all her heart. 'Thank you for driving me to the airport,' she murmured huskily. 'I know how busy you are, and I—I appreciate it.'

  He nodded. 'Have a good trip home,' he told her abruptly, his expression harsh.

  'Don't work too hard, will you,' she said lightly.

  'Or you.'

  Their conversation was becoming more and more strained, and as the final call for her flight was made she knew she would have to go, taking her ticket from her bag. 'Don't worry about me,' she dismissed. 'I've just had a holiday, remember.'

  'Some holiday,' he drawled.

  'Yes,' she agreed abruptly. 'Well—goodbye,' she held out her hand to him, not quite knowing how to take her departure from him now that the time had come. She had never been a man's mistress before!

  Kyle took hold of the proffered hand, using it to pull her forward into his arms. 'I think we can do better than that, don't you,' he murmured before his head bent and his mouth claimed hers.

  It was like being given a short reprieve after facing the hangman, and dropping her handbag at her feet she flung her arms about his neck, encouraging him to deepen the caress, uncaring of the people moving past them to the desk. Kyle didn't seem too concerned about appearances either, crushing her against him, his tongue moving between her teeth in an erotic message of need. Shelby sighed into his mouth, wishing they could go back to the ranch now and fulfil that need.

  But already Kyle's mouth was leaving hers, although his arms remained firm about her. 'Maybe I'll make that trip to London soon,' he said gruffly.

  'I wish you would.' She was sure her heart must be in her eyes, but she just couldn't help it.

  His dark gaze searched the paleness of her face. 'Do you really mean that?'

  'Yes,' she breathed. 'Oh yes!'

  'Then perhaps I could—'

  'I'm sorry to—er—interrupt you,' the man who had been standing at the desk a short distance away cut in apologetically. 'But if either of you intends to be on this flight I'm going to have to ask you to go through, they're boarding now.'

  'Thanks,' Kyle nodded to the man, the moment of intimacy gone as he released Shelby. 'I hope you have a good flight to Washington,' he rasped.

  'I—I'll call you and let you know I arrived safely in London, shall I?' She looked up at him with pleading eyes, still feeling the taste of him on her lips.

  'Do that,' he invited abruptly.

  'Er—Miss, I really do think…'

  'Yes,' she turned to smile blindly at the hovering man. 'Thank you.' She couldn't quite meet Kyle's gaze as she looked up at him. 'Goodbye,' her voice was gruff.

  'Goodbye, Shelby.'

  She daren't look around as she picked up her bag and walked into the lounge, knowing she couldn't let Kyle see the tears on her cheeks, walking straight on to the waiting plane, the last to board, feeling numb as she strapped herself into her window seat, turning to look frantically out of the window for one last glimpse of Kyle as the plane began to move towards the runway.

  She thought she was going to be disappointed, and then she saw him, leaning against the side of the truck as he watched the plane's departure with narrowed eyes. He couldn't see her in the small window, she knew that, but she could see him, and her lips silently formed her love for him.

  'Your husband?'

  She turned sharply to look at the woman seated beside her. 'Er—no, just a friend.'

  The woman nodded understandingly. 'Sometimes I think that's worse.' She leant forward to look at Kyle. 'Handsome devil,' she murmured appreciatively.

  'Yes, yes, he is,' Shelby agreed as the plane rose higher and higher and Kyle became smaller and smaller, until she could no longer see him at all. Her throat ached from holding in the tears, and as the woman at her side continued to talk through the whole of the short internal flight she wished she had never entered into the conversation, needing to be alone in her misery.

  The flight on Concorde from Washington to London was even more miserable, despite the shortness of the flight, and the rain falling as she left the airport didn't help her mood in the least. The transition from the wilds of snow-covered Montana to the rush and bustle of London made her feel a little disorientated during the taxi-ride to her home, her complete and utter unhappiness not helping the situation.

  Her luxurious apartment seemed cold and unfriendly, despite the central heating and the obvious comfort of the furnishings. But she knew it wasn't London or her home that was making her feel so tearful, it was the fact that Kyle wasn't here to share them with her. He was probably already looking on her as no more than a nuisance that had turned into a pleasant memory.

  It was too early to call the ranch yet, having missed part of the morning's work driving her to the airport Kyle would be out on the ranch working now. She would rest on the bed for a while and call when she knew he would be at home.

  'For a while' turned into several hours, and she woke groggily, the time difference she had experienced from the flight putting her whole system out. It took her a few minutes to gather her thoughts together enough to remember to call Kyle, and she dialled the number with a hand that shook slightly from nerves.

  Helen answered the call. 'It's a very good line, isn't it, dear,' she said lightly when she realised who it was.

  'Very good,' Shelby agreed abruptly.

  'Did you have a good flight?'

  'Yes. Helen—'

  'What's the weather like?'

  She could still hear the rain beating steadily against the window. 'Wet. Helen, is—'

  'That must have come as a bit of a shock after the extreme cold out here.'

  'Yes, it is. Helen, is Kyle there?' she at last managed to get out forcefully, knowing the other woman was only being polite, but needing to talk to Kyle.

  'Not at the moment, no. And Kenny and Wendy have gone out to dinner.'

  She wasn't at all interested in the whereabouts of her ex-fiancé and his wife, wouldn't have wanted to talk to either of them even if they had been at home. 'Do you know what time Kyle will be back?' She could always arrange to call again later, knew she wasn't going to sleep any more tonight anyway.

  'He doesn't confide his comings and goings to me,' Helen replied gently. 'He could be very late.'

  Shelby frowned at this, doing a mental calculation, realising that at the ten o'clock at night it was at the ranch Kyle couldn't possibly still be out working; it had been dark for hours. 'Kyle has gone out for the evening,' she realised dully, realising who he had probably gone out with too.

  'Sylvia telephoned—'

  'Could you just tell him I called to let him know I arrived safely,' she cut in harshly, not wanting to hear about Kyle and the other woman.

  'Shelby, dear—'

  'I told him I would,' she interrupted again, feeling as if she were slowly dying inside. She had only been gone a few hours, and already Kyle had gone to see his former mistress!

  'Shelby, I'm sure Kyle going to see Sylvia isn't what you think it is,' Helen told her softly. 'He just keeps an eye on the business side of her life since her husband died.'

  'Kyle explained all about his relationship with Sylvia,' she bit out tautly.

  'There you are, then,' Helen said with obvious relief. 'Why don't I take your telephone number and leave a message for him to call you when he gets in?'

  The thought of him telephoning her after coming from the other woman made her feel ill. 'It isn't important,' she dismissed. 'This was only a courtesy call.'

  'Shelby—'

  'I have to go, Helen,' she said brightly. 'It's very late here.'

  'But wouldn't you like to talk to Kyle?' the
other woman said desperately.

  She knew Helen was aware of her relationship with Kyle during the last week, could understand the other woman's feeling of awkwardness at having to tell her he was visiting Sylvia Judd. 'I don't think I'll bother,' she told her tautly.

  'But—'

  'Thank you for your hospitality the last few weeks, Helen,' she said abruptly. 'Please just give Kyle my message.' She rang off quickly before the other woman could voice any more objections.

  Kyle couldn't have wasted any time before visiting the beautiful Mrs Judd. Oh, Helen said that Sylvia had called him, but in the end it didn't really matter who had called who, he was with Sylvia Judd now, and that was what was important.

  It hurt her pride as much as anything else to know he had gone back to the other woman so quickly. Hadn't she been woman enough for him this last week? Did he have to go to Sylvia Judd to get the satisfaction in his bed that he needed?

  It was no good torturing herself with such thoughts. Her time with Kyle, though brief, had been good for both of them; she refused to think any differently.

  Her senior assistant did a double-take as Shelby walked confidently into the salon on Monday morning, and although she dreaded the questions she knew would be coming at her unexpected appearance she knew they had to be faced. She certainly couldn't hide at her flat for ever, although she liked to think that what she had been doing the last three days was resting after her journey. She hadn't let any of her friends know of her return, hadn't felt in the mood for sympathy over the weekend. And if she were really honest with herself she had spent most of the last three days waiting to see if Kyle would return her call in spite of her saying it wasn't necessary. He hadn't.

  Her assistant Jenny was a tall willowy blonde in her late twenties, her relationship with a television producer not something she told too many people, mainly because he was already married with two children. Jenny knew he had no intention of ever leaving his wife, and she seemed happy with the situation, called herself a mistress, and didn't mind if her friends knew it.

  'Correct me if I'm wrong,' she drawled now, 'but shouldn't you be on your honeymoon?'

  Shelby went through to her office, nodding hello to her secretary Sophie as she, too, looked surprised to see her. 'I should,' she confirmed dryly.

  'But you preferred to come to work instead,' Jenny derided disbelievingly. 'And just where is your handsome bridegroom?'

  'With his pretty bride,' she answered, absently flicking through the mail waiting for her attention on her desk. None of it looked very interesting.

  Jenny blinked dazed blue eyes. 'Come again? I thought you just said—'

  'I did.' She briefly explained the fact that Kenny was married to someone else, omitting the finer details of their break-up, although that didn't stop Jenny being outraged anyway.

  'The rat!' she accused. 'After chasing after you in that shameless way he actually had the nerve to go and marry someone else?'

  'Yes,' she confirmed. 'But don't be upset for me, Jenny, I had a lucky escape.'

  'If you say so.' But her friend didn't sound completely convinced. 'So it's business as usual?'

  'As usual,' she nodded with a smile. 'And if any other good-looking men try to charm me just remind me of Kenny, will you? That should cure me of my romanticism.'

  'Will do,' Jenny said lightly, standing up. 'Now would you like to come and check over your establishment? You never know, I could have stripped the place bare this last month!'

  Her smile deepened. 'I trust you.' But she walked round with her assistant anyway, feeling her usual pride in the salon as she did so. It was one of the most luxurious and informal salons in London and catered for every need, from saunas and massages to beauty treatment and hairstyling on its three floors. Nothing had been spared on its fitments, the furniture plush and comfortable, the decor warm and inviting, making it more like a place you liked to visit than somewhere women felt compelled to go to maintain their youth and beauty. The whole thing had been Gavin's idea, and he had insisted that if it were going to be done at all it had to be done properly, in style. O'Neal's was a credit to his planning and business brain. It had also become her salvation after his death.

  With a business to run, people relying on her for their livelihoods, she hadn't been able to give in to the despair that had engulfed her when Gavin died, had had to carry on for the sake of the people who depended on her. And if it could do that for her once it could do it again, would be the incentive she needed to get her over Kyle.

  But that was easier said than done, and over the next few weeks she knew she wasn't succeeding in putting Kyle from her mind, that no matter how much she had worked herself to the point of exhaustion he was never far from her mind.

  'For goodness' sake slow down,' Jenny advised worriedly after watching five weeks of this frantic activity, of seeing Shelby get thinner and paler from the pressure of work she put herself under, and the constant round of parties she attended in the evenings. 'It will all still be there tomorrow, you know,' she added lightly, Shelby still working at her desk when everyone else had gone home for the evening.

  Shelby's eyes had lost their sparkle the last few weeks, although her smile was just as warm. 'I'll be leaving in just a few more minutes.'

  'Promise?'

  'What are you going to do if I don't?' she teased.

  'Sit right here and wait for you,' Jenny told her stubbornly.

  'Then I promise,' she nodded. 'Isn't Don waiting for you outside?' she prompted lightly as the other woman still hesitated about leaving.

  'Are you sure you'll be all right here on your own?'

  'Very sure.'

  'He isn't worth it, you know,' Jenny suddenly told her huskily.

  She blinked her puzzlement, feeling more tired than she cared to admit. 'Who isn't?'

  'Kenny Whitney!' her friend said forcefully. 'I didn't like to tell you before, but he was still seeing Anne for some time after he started dating you too.'

  Shelby blushed at just how gullible she had been where Kenny was concerned. 'I wish you had told me, Jenny,' she sighed. 'Maybe then I wouldn't have been such a fool over him.'

  'You seemed so happy with him, I didn't want to ruin things for you.'

  'Well don't worry about it now, it's all over,' Shelby assured her. 'And I promise I shall be leaving here as soon as I've added up this last row of figures. All right?' she prompted softly.

  'All right,' Jenny nodded.

  As she continued to sit in her office after Jenny had left, the salon strangely quiet and eerie now that it was empty for the night, she wondered what Jenny would say if she knew it wasn't Kenny she was missing at all, that it was his cousin she ached for.

  She left the salon late each evening, joined in London's constant social whirl until the early hours of the morning, and still she ached for Kyle when she fell into bed each night. Time, she kept telling herself, all she needed was time. But in her worst moments of despair she wondered just how much time.

  It was another half an hour before she stood up to leave, the ornate clock on the wall telling her it was after eight now. She swayed slightly as she turned to get her coat, clutching on to the side of the desk to stop herself falling, realising that Jenny was right to be worried about her, that she had been overdoing it. Maybe she would give the party a miss tonight, have an early night for a change and get some rest.

  But she felt better by the time she had driven home, put the feeling of giddiness down to the fact that she hadn't eaten dinner yet. The maid who came in every day to clean the flat for her had left her a meal in the oven, and for once Shelby decided not to throw it out but to actually eat it. Trying to forget Kyle was one thing, killing herself doing it was something else entirely. She just wasn't the suicidal type.

  It was almost ten o'clock by the time she arrived at the party, and as had become usual with her nowadays she flung herself into the exuberance of dancing the night away, wearing her constant stream of partners out while still, remainin
g full of energy herself.

  Quite how she came to find herself lying in a hospital examination room she didn't know, but the stark white decor and numerous instruments attached to the walls meant it couldn't possibly be anything else.

  'Lie still,' a middle-aged man in a white coat moved forward to order as she went to sit up, having been standing behind her until that moment.

  She did as instructed, frowning deeply. 'What am I doing here?'

  'Getting the first rest you've had in weeks, I should think,' he answered sternly, leaving his notes on the desk to come and stand beside the examining couch, tall and grey-haired, with blue eyes that looked as if they could twinkle merrily in the right circumstances, although at the moment they were as censorious as the rest of his features. 'What were you trying to do?' he added angrily. 'Set some sort of record for stupidity?'

  Shelby dazedly put a hand over her eyes. 'How did I get here?' she asked gruffly.

  'Some of your friends brought you in after you fainted at a party. Although if they were true friends they wouldn't have let you get into this state in the first place,' the doctor bit out. 'You're undernourished as well as suffering from acute exhaustion.'

  'I had dinner,' she defended weakly.

  'Congratulations!' he quipped with sarcasm. 'There are easier and more effective ways of getting rid of an unwanted baby, you know,' he rasped.

  If Shelby had any colour in her cheeks she knew that she lost it at that moment, her mouth opening wordlessly. 'Baby?' she finally managed to squeak out between numbed lips.

  The doctor's expression changed at her complete bewilderment, softened, and she finally saw some of the warmth in the blue eyes she had known could be there when he wasn't so angry. 'You didn't know, did you?' he realised huskily. 'I felt sure that you must be aware of your condition.'

  Her 'condition' was still a deep shock to her, too much so to actually be taken in at this moment. 'You've already said I could win prizes in stupidity,' she said weakly.

 

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