"In fact, I heard you say that just yesterday."
"Nah," he said, with a quick shake of his head. "Must have been some other guy you were talking to. Hey, looks like they're going to serve the food. Let's go."
Dan took her arm and propelled her toward the fully loaded buffet table, sweeping her past John, who held out his hand as if to stop them.
"Wait, Silvey...."
"Excuse us," Dan said, neatly sidestepping and taking Silvey with him. "Your date is hungry."
"Then I'll take care of her," John said, icily polite.
Dan gave him a dismissive look. "Like you have all evening? I don't think so."
John squawked a protest, but when several people turned to see what was going on, his face reddened and he subsided. Silvey looked over her shoulder in time to see him give Dan a black look.
When they were in line, she pulled her arm pointedly from Dan's grasp and whispered fiercely, "What is it with you two, anyway? I'm not some kind of pull toy to be fought over by two little boys."
Dan's glance was swift. "No, you're a woman who accepts a date with a man she hasn't seen in years for the purpose of what?" He shrugged. "Having a good time? Playing us off against each other?"
Appalled by the unfairness of that accusation, Silvey stared at him while a haze of anger seemed to block out everything in her field of vision. It took her several seconds to get her voice back and when she spoke, she made sure it was low enough for only him to hear. "I won't even justify that with a denial. You know, perfectly well I didn't do any such thing. I don't know why you have such a low opinion of me or why you dislike me, my grandmother, women in general, but it seems to be your problem. Not mine."
Turning, she grabbed a plate and made her way down the buffet table, loading up with more food than she normally ate in a full day. The serving spoons shook in her hand. The salad tongs trembled as she placed a small mound of salad on her plate, sending a cherry tomato rolling and bouncing away across the tabletop.
While she was doing all this, she could feel Dan just behind her shoulder. She didn't know if he wanted to speak to her, and she was
hurt and angry enough not to care. In fact, she was tempted to tell him to forget about the loan altogether.
She could give up her dream of owning the shop. These push-me, pull-you confrontations with Dan were getting to be too much for her. It wasn't worth the emotional pain she was experiencing with this man.
Silvey thought about her grandmother, but decided that she could explain things to Leila, tell her grandmother that she and Dan simply couldn't get along. If Lawrence offered once again to loan her the money, she would refuse. Getting involved with the Wisdom men in any way was more than she could stand.
Ignoring Dan, she looked for a place to eat by herself. John was far back in the line and wouldn't be joining her for a while-if he ever did.
She walked swiftly away from Dan and found a single chair by a small table. Jerking the chair forward, she sat, then stared helplessly at the mountain of food on her plate, then pushed it away. She didn't want all of this. She didn't want any of it.
She sensed someone standing behind her, but knowing it was Dan, she didn't glance up until she heard the scrape of another chair being dragged over to join her. Then her gaze shot up, her eyes full of fire.
Before she could speak, Dan said, "I'm sorry."
The furious words she'd been forming slipped away before they could be spoken and she blinked at him. His eyes didn't leave her face as he pulled his chair around with one hand and sat down, positioning his plate across from hers. He'd placed only a few items on it and at any other time, Silvey would have laughed at the incongruous pair they made.
"I apologize for acting like a bastard," he said. His tone was sincere, but his face was shuttered.
She hated that he was so hard to read-and she was so easy. "Why did you?" she demanded. She picked up her fork, speared a bite of lettuce, then set it down again. "I never know where I am with you," she complained.
"And you want to?"
Frustrated, Silvey used both hands to shove her golden brown hair away from her face, then placed them on the tabletop and leaned forward. Soft curls immediately sprang forward to bounce around her unhappy face. "Like it or not, we are linked together, and... and that's hard for me to... take." She stopped, took a breath, and looked into the darkness beyond the patio lights, opening her eyes wide and willing away unwelcome tears. Her eyes glittered when she looked back at him.
His gaze touched on her face and his lips pinched together. "Silvey," he began, but she cut him off.
"Two weeks ago, I didn't even know you existed. Now my grandmother is engaged to your father, you're providing the loan for me to buy my shop...." And she spent far too much time thinking about him. She took a shuddering breath and went on. "I've tried to watch what I've said around you. I'm used to saying what I think and ... well, I'm going to say it now."
"Go ahead," he said, but she didn't need his permission. She had a head of steam going now and he couldn't have stopped her if he'd tried.
"You don't really know me. I mean, how could you? We've just met and the circumstances haven't exactly been ordinary, and yet you always seem to think the worst of me. As I said before, it's not my problem. It's your problem."
Defiantly, she stared at him, her chest heaving with quick breaths and lingering anger.
Of course he didn't react in the way she might have expected-not that she knew what she did expect.
His face softened and his mouth lifted in a self-mocking smile. "I guess you do know me after all." She blinked at him. "What?"
Instead of answering, he asked, "Are you really hungry?"
"What? Oh, no." She gave up any pretense of eating and pushed the plate aside.
"Then let's get out of here," he suggested. "I'll tell John you've got a headache and I'm taking you home."
Silvey would have protested, but he was already several yards away. The conversation between the two men was short, and from what she could see, fiercely polite. She should have felt bad about leaving John, but he'd invited her, then left her alone all evening. As angry as she was at Dan, she couldn't imagine him doing such a thing.
John accompanied Dan back to her. Stiffly, he wished her goodnight, saying lie hoped she felt better soon. With a brittle smile, she nodded and turned away, but she felt his angry gaze burning between her shoulder blades as she went.
Dan's hand rode firmly at the small of her back, ushering her along.
He helped her negotiate her way through the crowd, thank the solicitous Vargas, and assure them she would be perfectly all right.
In no time, Dan had her outside and into his car. He started the motor and drove slowly down the mountainside while she stared straight ahead and tried to sort through the emotions that were battering her.
Anger was still uppermost, but she also felt a keen disappointment.
It hurt that Dan thought so little of her and it hurt even more that she didn't know why. When she began to calm down a little, she stole a quick-glance at him. His face was grim in the pale golden glow of the dashboard lights. His jaw was set.
He was such an enigma, she felt she would never know him. She
turned away and crossed her arms beneath her breasts, grasping her elbows. At this moment, she wasn't sure she wanted to. She couldn't help comparing him to Lawrence, who seemed so open and easy to read. The comparison might not be fair, though. There were depths and layers to Dan's personality that she hadn't detected in his father. In many ways he was a man apart.
She would never know him unless he allowed her to.
Dan slowed the car, then eased onto a wide pull-out area that overlooked the city. They were several hundred feet below the Varga home, but the view was still spectacular. Silvey wanted to ask why they'd stopped, but she was determined that he would speak first.
Dan switched off the motor and sat with his hands gripping the wheel. Finally, he let them slip down to lie loos
ely on his thighs.
After several tense moments, he said, "Silvey, the Wisdom men aren't a good bet for a long-term relationship."
She turned in her seat to stare at him. "Are you talking about Lawrence, or about yourself?"
"Both," he answered, looking out into the night.
Silvey's hands clenched in her lap, but she kept her tone even.
"Dan, do you plan to try and break up Lawrence and Leila's engagement?"
"Not actively. But if it shatters of its own accord, the Wisdom men will be running true to form."
"That's a very cynical view."
"But realistic."
The certainty in his voice made her feel sick with disappointment.
Again, she wondered what had made him like this. She said, "It'll be different for Lawrence with Grandma. You'll see."
Dan didn't argue. "Then I guess I'm talking about myself."
"Are you saying there have been a succession of women in your life, too?"
Dan turned to her then, and she thought she heard a hint of a smile in his voice. "Do I look like the type of man who kisses and tells?"
On a sigh of frustration, she said, "How would I know, Dan? As I said, in spite of the time we've spent together, I hardly know you."
He accepted that in a brooding silence that lasted several seconds before he went on. "I'm talking about my dad's women. My step-mothers. The ones who married him and stayed for a few months or a few years, at best. Hell, Silvey," he said, in disgust.
"There have been so many women pass through our lives, I never knew which ones to trust because I never knew which ones would be staying around."
In his voice she didn't hear a little boy's whine, but the resignation of a man who had come to terms with what had happened to him.
"What about your mother?"
"I don't remember her. Dad's never talked about their marriage very much except to say that he was just too hard to live with. There were always too many people around. Friends, hangers on, acquaintances wanting a handout. They never had a real family life.
Knowing him now, as an adult, I can look at him and see that he was too much like a shooting star or a comet she couldn't hang on to, "What was she like?"
"I only have secondhand information to go by. She was the script girl on one of Dad's movies. Young and drop-dead gorgeous from what I hear. She was desperate to be an actress, but she had no talent, so somebody had given her the job on the set. Dad says that for all her glamorous beauty, she was a small-town Missouri girl at heart.
Probably should have stayed there, married and raised a couple of kids instead of seeking her fortune in Hollywood." Dan paused before adding, "She died when I was two."
"Oh, Dan," Silvey said in soft dismay as she imagined what it would have been like growing up without her mother in a household where the cast of characters was always changing. "That's terrible."
Dan shrugged. "It's in the past now."
"But the past affects the present."
"Only if we let it," Dan said grimly.
Silvey turned away, shaking her head. "Cynicism, again."
"I told you, I'm a realist. I hope things work out for Dad and Leila.
She's not like anyone else he's ever married."
Silvey frowned at the strangeness of that phrase.
"When he met my mother," Dan continued, "Dad was twenty years older than she was, already married, but he had to have her." Dan made a low, snorting sound, but Silvey heard no bitterness in his voice. "It might have been better if Dad had been capable of unfaithfulness."
She gave a small laugh of disbelief. "Dan, what a thing to say."
"I mean, he was too much of a gentleman to begin an affair with another woman while he was still married, so he divorced one wife before taking up with the next one. He always made sure his ex-wives had plenty of money. One of them told me that he made a better ex-husband than a husband. My mother only lasted a couple of years. She left when I was a few months old and died of pneumonia two years later."
Silvey grimaced. Her anger at him had dissipated and she couldn't help laying a comforting hand over his. "I'm sorry, Dan."
"It was a long time ago, and I don't brood over it. I know it's my choice to be like my dad or not."
"I beg your pardon?"
Dan's shoulders shifted restlessly against the seat back. "I'm trying to explain why I've acted like a bastard."
Silvey sighed helplessly. "You must be better at explaining in print than you are in person because I still don't understand."
"Dad always seemed to fall for the next pretty girl to come along."
"And?"
"Hell, I didn't expect it to happen to me."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, I've avoided entanglements. I've known a lot of women.
I've been with many women, but they all knew the score, knew that I wasn't going to fall in love with them."
"And you never did?"
"I never let myself."
"And now?"
"Hell, I don't know," he sighed. "I never expected to go rushing out to rescue my dad from another gold digger only to meet a mature lady whose only interest is Dad's welfare, and a girl who dances with mops."
Silvey blinked, then began to smile. Her smile grew into a grin. "Are you saying in your own endearingly convoluted way that you've fallen for me?"
He didn't answer directly, but in a tone of self-disgust he said, "I was jealous that you'd gone to that damned barbecue with Ramos."
Her mouth dropped open in a surprised O.
Well, I... I'm stunned."
"Not half as stunned as I am. I'd never planned to let a woman get that kind of hold over me."
All her other emotions gave way before a flood of tenderness. "We can't always plan what happens to us, Dan."
His hand flexed beneath hers, then turned over to entwine with her fingers. "Don't I know it."
The irony in his voice might have made her smile if his tone hadn't been heavily resigned. She looked into his eyes, trying to read his expression, but his face, and his thoughts, were in shadow. The idea of having any kind of power over him, much less an emotional power, rocked her back on her heels.
He leaned forward and lifted his hand to cup her jaw, firmly, but gently holding her in place. Silvey started in surprise, but he made a quiet, soothing sound. She could see his eyes now. They were darkly intent. In spite of the evening's warmth, shivers swept over her in a tide. Her jaw trembled beneath his touch.
"I've concentrated on my career. That's been enough."
"Has it? Is that why you've got two successful careers? To fill up your time?" "Partly."
Silvey was saddened for him. She had known from the minute they met that he was a man of determination and purpose. Too bad he used it to close himself off from so much of life.
"I've avoided involvement my whole adult life," he added.
"Have you? That's too bad." Her eyes were begging to drift shut so she could concentrate on his touch, his nearness.
"I've seen for myself that involvement brings all kinds of hazards-messy emotional situations that are usually only solved with a chequebook." The tip of his finger ran over the soft outer shell of her ear. "It's a void in my life, but it's one I've come to live with."
"Oh, Dan," she said sadly, but her voice hiccuped on a sound of desire.
Silvey whimpered as heat began to swirl through her. She had to fight the sensual fog he was creating with his touch to focus on what he was saying. "You're not being fair, Dan Wisdom."
"Sure I am. I'm letting you know exactly where I stand." Dan leaned close to her and they were inches away from each other when he said, "I have to tell you, Silvey, I still don't intend to let a woman have that kind of power over me."
"Then what are you doing?" she whispered unsteadily.
"Damned if I know." Dan slipped his fingers into her hair, loosening a wave that fell down over his forearm.
Silvey knew what was coming, but it was s
till a shock when his mouth closed over hers. The kiss was long and slow, exploring and questioning.
Their position was awkward-side by side, turned at an uncomfortable angle toward each other, but neither of them seemed to notice.
Silvey was too enthralled by his taste and his touch, too shocked by the depth of feeling that swept through her when his lips pressed against hers, drew away while he stared at her, then returned in a fresh rush of desire.
Her hand stole up to his arm, running over the sharp ridge of his elbow, then across his biceps, which felt hard and smooth beneath her palm, to his shoulder, then around his neck.
She couldn't have said how long the kiss lasted because she was too involved in prolonging it. She wanted to draw from him the answer to every question she'd had about him since the moment they met.
It would have been impossible for her to say what a cynic tasted or felt like, but surely it wasn't this wonderful warmth, this sweet, heady rush of desire that was beginning to flame through her.
She should have known it would be like this, she thought hazily.
When she had danced with him, she had suspected these depths of feeling. She just hadn't suspected that the depths would close over her head so quickly, leaving her inseparably tied to him, swamped in her own emotions.
Finally, Dan pulled his mouth from hers, slipped his lips over her cheek, and kissed her jaw.
She shivered and in a shaky voice, said, "Dan, I don't know what you're thinking, but to me, this doesn't feel like non-involvement."
Dan went instantly still. His lips were against her cheek. She felt a flutter on her skin, and knew it was his eyelashes. He was probably squeezing his eyes tight against the emotions inside him. She wished she knew what they were.
His hands lifted to her shoulders and he set her firmly but gently away from him. "You're right. Where you're concerned, I seem to say one thing and do another."
Silvey stared at him in dismay, but couldn't think of anything to say.
The excitement of his touch was still boiling through her, even as he withdrew it. Her lips wanted further contact with his mouth, even as his lips apologized for touching her.
So far this evening, she had been hurt and angry. Now she felt a vast hollow of sorrow inside her. She struggled against threatening tears and took refuge in flippancy. Tossing her head, she scooted back to her own side of the seat and said, "Then I'd better go against what my mother always told me."
A Double Wedding Page 8