She felt a sudden yearning to get behind that protective veneer, to penetrate the facade. Just the fleeting glimpses into his inner feelings he’d allowed her so far told her that what he was covering up was exactly what endeared him to her, that vulnerability, that woundedness, and made him lovable.
“Well,” he was saying now. “How about your marriage? Do you feel like telling me about that?”
“Oh, that’s the most boring part of all. In fact, I’ve been thinking lately that I only came alive after Paul died. Is that a terrible thing to say?”
“Not if it’s the truth. I take it you weren’t exactly madly in love with him, then.”
“Oh, I thought I was, of course, or I wouldn’t have married him. It just seemed so right. Both families were for it, claimed we were perfectly suited.” She laughed dryly. “What they really meant was that our marriage suited them, or their ideas of what was best for both of us.” She turned to him and gave him a direct look. “And you of all people must know that he didn’t really love me.”
“Well, if not,” was the gruff reply, “then he was a damned fool.”
This time he did reach out for her. When she felt his arms come around her, she closed her eyes and allowed herself to sink up against him. For several moments they neither moved nor spoke, then, gently, he put a hand under her chin, lifting her face up to his.
“I don’t know what it is about you, Jessica,” he said in a low hoarse voice. “You seem to bring out the best in me.” He smiled a little sadly. “And the worst, to be honest. For example, right now what I’d really like to do is rip that fetching little white dress off your back, throw you down on the sand and ravish you.”
“Luke!” she cried, drawing back from him.
“Only kidding,” he said, reaching out for her again. “No,” he amended when she had settled against him again. “I wasn’t kidding, but I’ve got sense enough by now not to try it. And I certainly didn’t mean to be insulting.”
She’d been shocked by his bald statement of desire, but insulted? Not in the least! In fact, it had set up some rather X-rated visions in her own head, and before they became too inviting, she drew away from him again, this time not quite so abruptly.
“It’s getting late,” she said softly. “And it’s a long walk back. Perhaps we’d better go.”
He frowned, and she primed herself for another battle of wills. But then he gave her a grim smile and rose slowly to his feet. “All right. You’re the boss.”
They walked back slowly in silence, each wrapped in his own thoughts. She’d been the one to stop whatever had been about to happen, and now she was beginning to regret it. Just walking along beside the tall man, so intensely aware of his sheer physical presence, was enough to set her pulses racing and weaken her knees.
When they arrived back in town, he stopped short and looked down at her. “Do you really have to go?”
“Well, I should, if I’m going to get my chores done.”
“Can’t you do your chores another time? We could both use a drink after our walk. Then maybe have some dinner.”
“Well, I don’t know about dinner. I’m a working girl now, remember, and have to take advantage of my days off.”
His face closed down, the smile faded and somehow she was certain that if she turned him down again it would be the last chance she’d get. In fact, if she knew anything about him at all, he’d already stretched his capacity for tolerance to breaking point by coming back to seek her out today.
She smiled. “But I would like a drink.”
“All right,” he said grudgingly. “If that’s the best you can do, I guess I’ll have to settle for it.” He looked around, then took her by the arm and started walking toward a small restaurant across the street.
They went into the cool dark lounge and sat down at a table by the window overlooking the shore. It was almost five o’clock by now, but the summer sun was still bright in the blue sky, hanging in the western sky like an enormous lantern and casting a golden swath over the sparkling water.
While Luke went up to the bar to get their drinks, Jessica watched him covertly, the tall carriage, the easy elegance of his long stride. If only he weren’t so damnably attractive! She was already regretting her refusal of his dinner invitation. Still, it really was more sensible to move cautiously where this impetuous man was concerned.
Of course she was very attracted to him. Who wouldn’t be? And that short intimate moment on the beach had gone straight to her head. But she still sensed danger in him, really knew nothing about him, except for the terse snippets of information she’d almost had to pull out of him. What made a man like Luke tick? He was so different from any other man she’d ever known that she could already be getting in way over her head.
He came back shortly, a tall frosted glass in each hand, and they sat there for a few moments sipping their drinks, not saying anything. His head was turned away from her, gazing out at the gulf, his face in repose, the strong features relaxed, and she noticed for the first time the tiny lines at the corners of his eyes, the deeper indentations running from his fine straight nose down to his mouth.
“How old are you, Luke?” she asked on a sudden impulse. “Do you mind my asking?”
“Of course not. I’ll be thirty-eight in November. Just ten years older than you.”
Her eyes widened. “How did you know that?”
He smiled. “Oh, I make it my business to thoroughly research everyone with close connections to pilots who crash. Nothing personal,” he added hastily. “It’s just part of the job.”
“I see.” She thought a minute. “If your birthday is in November, you must be a Scorpio.”
He nodded. “Afraid so.”
She laughed. “I don’t know anything about astrology, but I do remember hearing once that the typical Scorpio could either be a huge success in life—or end up in prison.” She gave him a mischievous look. “Also that you might hate them or love them, but the one thing you could never do was ignore them.”
He threw back his head and laughed. “Well,” he said, “maybe I’m the exception that proves the rule.”
Somehow she doubted that, but she had the feeling she’d already said too much on the subject. “So, tell me. Where are you off to next?”
He shrugged. “I never really know. The jobs come along, then I pick and choose which ones sound interesting, and I’m off.”
“Well, what’s your favorite place, then?”
He didn’t even hesitate. “Oh, Japan. In fact, I may even live there permanently one day, when I retire.”
She had to laugh at that. “Oh, you’ll never retire!”
He quirked a dark eyebrow at her. “No? Why do you say that?”
She didn’t feel she could tell him her real reason, that he was too full of energy and self-confidence, and obviously too good at his job, which was a unique one, to ever consider giving it up unless he became physically unable to perform his duties. And she couldn’t imagine that ever happening.
“I don’t know,” she said instead. “I just haven’t met very many people who seem to love their work the way you do. But don’t you get tired of living out of a suitcase? Not having a real home?”
“I’ve never had a real home,” he remarked with another lift of his broad shoulders. “Since I do spend a lot of time at the Naval Air Station here in Pensacola, I guess the Paradise is as close to a home as I’m likely to get.”
His tone was offhand, but she found his words very sad. Although her own home life had been repressive, and she had no desire to return to it, she couldn’t imagine not having some kind of place to call one’s own, even her tiny apartment.
“Well,” she said brightly, “I do envy you all the exotic places you’ve visited. I’ve done very little traveling.”
He took a long swallow of his drink, draining it, then set the glass down on the table and leaned toward her. “Well, perhaps we can remedy that,” he said softly.
She dropped her eyes, no
t quite sure how to take that. Was he suggesting she might go with him on one of his trips? Or merely that her day to travel would come some time in the future? Whatever it was, the prudent thing was to ignore it.
“Perhaps,” she murmured. She finished her own drink, then pushed her chair back. “Right now, I think I’d better travel back to town if I’m going to get my chores done before dark.”
For a moment it looked as though he was going to argue with her, but then he only nodded and rose to his feet. “All right,” he said. “Let’s go.”
He insisted on helping her shop, then on walking her to her door, carrying her groceries and setting them down inside the apartment.
“Well?” he asked when she turned to him.
“Thank you for the help, Luke,” she said, slightly puzzled at the questioning note in his voice. “And the walk and the drink. It was a pleasant afternoon.”
He moved a little closer to her. “Aren’t you going to ask me in?”
“I don’t think so,” she replied carefully. “As I told you, I still have things to do.”
He shrugged and grinned down at her. “So you did. But you can’t blame a man for trying. When can I see you again?”
She looked away, thinking. Would it be wise to encourage any kind of relationship with such a man? Here today, gone tomorrow, God knew where. What would be the point? But even beyond that, the danger she sensed in him made her uneasy.
“How about dinner tomorrow night?” he persisted.
“All right,” she agreed at last. “But I don’t-get off work until eight.”
“Then we’ll make it a late one. Shall I pick you up here or at the hospital?”
“Better make it here.”
He nodded and gave her a knowing look. “Ah, yes. Don’t want tongues to wag, do we?”
“No,” she said firmly. “We don’t.”
A slow grin spread across his face. “I love it when you get on your high horse,” he said, and before she could think of the proper dignified response, his head had come down, his hands were on her shoulders, and his mouth was pressed against hers.
He held the kiss for a long time, with a gentle pressure at first that gradually became more demanding. Then, just as she was about to break it off, he raised his head and gazed down at her, his hands still holding her, slightly rough on her bare arms.
“Until tomorrow, then,” he said in a low voice.
For the next few weeks Jessica’s life seemed to be full of Luke Fury. The very next day a box of beautiful long-stemmed red roses was delivered to her door just as she was setting out for the hospital, and from then on flowers arrived so often that she had to buy new vases to put them in.
She saw him almost every night. If they hadn’t made a specific date, he’d be waiting for her in front of her apartment when she got home from work. Sometimes he took her out to dinner, and on a few occasions she cooked for him. By tacit consent, they never met on the base, not difficult to do since their paths rarely crossed.
Gradually, her fears about his intentions were allayed. Although he kept trying to get past her defenses, she had managed so far to keep him at a safe distance, allowing him only a chaste good-night kiss, and that more as a friend than a lover.
What amazed her was that he kept coming back for more. She’d been certain that a man as successful with women as he appeared to be would simply write her off at the first sign of resistance. He never actually gave up trying, but whenever she stopped his roving hands or pulled away from a kiss that threatened to get out of hand, he seemed to take it philosophically, and never complained.
The only problem was that it grew harder and harder to resist him. There was no question about his own desire. He made no bones about it. He wanted her, and he’d keep trying until she gave in. He wouldn’t insist, wouldn’t force himself on her, but she sensed the absolute certainty in him that in the end he’d get what he wanted.
And that was fast becoming what she wanted, too. Then why was she holding him at bay? Several reasons, actually. Her bad marriage had made her wary of all men. The scars from Paul’s infidelities still hadn’t healed. And she was a recent widow, after all.
But as she searched her heart, she knew that at bottom the true reason was that she was waiting for some indication that Luke cared something more about her than a bed partner, another easy conquest. Just one small sign of love and she’d probably follow wherever he wanted to take her.
Unless it was on the evening before her regular days off, she made a point of turning him out early. Now that she’d had a taste of independence, her job meant too much to her to jeopardize it by showing up late or too tired to function effectively. He always took this in good part, too, and never argued with her when she told him she had to say good-night sooner than he would have liked.
On one of those early nights, he had just left, and she was on her way to bed, when the telephone rang. Frowning, she glanced at her watch. It was almost eleven o’clock.
It turned out to be Helen, calling from San Francisco.
“Helen, do you know what time it is?” she said with a laugh.
“Yes, eight o’clock,” was the reply.
“You’ve forgotten the time difference again. It’s easy to do, I know. It’s three hours later here.”
“I’m sorry. Did I get you out of bed?”
“No. In fact I just got home a few minutes ago.”
“Oh? Heavy date?” Her tone was light, but the very real curiosity underlying it was obvious.
Jessica hesitated a moment before replying. Then suddenly she had an overpowering urge to talk to someone about Luke. Since they hadn’t advertised their relationship around the hospital, and Helen was thousands of miles away, safely on the Pacific Coast, she was the perfect confidante.
“Well,” she began slowly, “to tell you the truth, I have met a man.”
There was a short silence. “I see,” Helen said at last. “What’s he like?”
Jessica laughed. “He’s so different from any other man I’ve ever known that it’s almost impossible to describe him. I still have trouble reading him myself.”
“How, different?”
Jessica thought a minute. “Well, rougher around the edges, for one thing.”
“Sounds fascinating!” was the dry response. “Tell me more. You make him sound like some kind of thug. He doesn’t beat you, does he?”
“No,” she replied with a laugh. “Far from it. What I mean is that he doesn’t have the slick veneer or social polish of most of the men I’m used to. Yet, oddly enough, that very fact is a large part of his charm.”
“Do go on,” Helen prompted eagerly.
“Well, it’s hard to explain. He might be rough, even abrasive at times, but there’s an honesty about him I find very attractive. He is what he is, no pretense, no fake sophistication.” An image of Luke leapt into her mind, and she had to laugh. “He also has a self-confidence that borders on arrogance. It’s as though he’s saying to the world in general, ‘Take me or leave me as I am. I don’t care.’”
What she couldn’t tell Helen was what an intensely physical man he was, with an aura of near-palpable sexual electricity about him that awakened depths of response in her she’d hardly known existed. And that for the first time in her life she felt like a desirable woman instead of a mere social asset.
“And what does this paragon look like? Tall and dark and sexy?”
“Well, that just about covers it,” Jessica replied.
“You don’t mean it!” Helen clucked her tongue. “Well, hang onto him, dear. Is it serious?”
“Oh, I doubt it. Luke doesn’t think the way we’re used to. He has a job that takes him all over the world, footloose and fancy free, and I don’t believe he’ll ever settle down. Doesn’t even want to. He likes his life just the way it is, and there’s no place in it for a permanent commitment of any kind.”
“Well, watch it, Jessica,” Helen said in a warning tone. “That kind of flame can singe the win
gs of trusting little moths like you.”
“Believe me, I’m well aware of the dangers, and I have no intention of getting burned. Forewarned is forearmed, you know. There’s not much chance of this moth trusting in what Luke has no intention of delivering.”
“Just be careful. These things have a way of sneaking up on you, no matter how forearmed you are.”
“I agree, especially since it’s so soon after Paul’s death. Even though nothing has really happened between us, I can’t help feeling that such a recent widow shouldn’t even be seen in public with another man.”
“Oh, bosh!” Helen exclaimed. “You know how I feel about that old nonsense. Paul ran you such a hellish life while he was alive, I see no reason for you to go into a year’s mourning for him, or whatever the current rule might be. You deserve a little happiness, Jessica.” She cleared her throat loudly. “So, other than lover-boy, how are things?”
Jessica filled her in on the job, the apartment, life in Florida, then they said good-night.
The next day Greg Palmerston stopped by the cashier’s desk to ask her to have dinner with him that night.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Greg,” she said. “I already have a date.”
“I see. You know, I’ve tried to call you several times at home, but you always seem to be out.” He paused a moment, then went on in a casual tone. “Shall I back off, Jessica? I mean, there’s not much point in my trailing after you if you’re involved with someone else, is there?”
For some reason his tone rankled. He seemed to be saying that unless he were the only man in her life, she wasn’t worth wasting his time over. That was so typical of Greg’s whole breed. They never even thought to consider how they really felt about anything, only how it would look.
She gave him a cool smile. “You’ll have to decide that yourself, Greg. All I can say is that I happen to be busy tonight.”
“All right,” he said, frowning. “That’s clear enough.”
He turned and stalked away from her, passing by Millie on the way without so much as a nod. Millie continued on toward the desk, a quizzical look on her face.
Promise of Paradise Page 8