Shadow of Love

by Sondra Stanford

  The ceremony did not take long. She repeated her vows in a soft, faint voice, but Rod's voice was strong and firm. And then, all at once, it was over. Rod kissed her and they turned and walked down the aisle together and out into the golden sunlight.

  As soon as they were out of the church, he turned to smile at her. "You are incredibly beautiful today, Mrs. Castle."

  For some crazy reason, Leslie's heart lurched at the warmth in his voice. "You… you're looking pretty spectacular yourself, Mr. Castle," she told him. His dark hair gleamed with reddish highlights from the sun and his eyes glittered like San Francisco Bay on a day just such as this. He wore a black tuxedo, which seemed to emphasize the graceful strength of his body.

  "See," he teased softly, "we're making a great success of our marriage already, what with all these compliments."

  Leslie's eyes danced. "And they said it wouldn't last."

  Rod chuckled, put his arm around her, and pulled her close to his side as they turned together to accept the congratulations of the guests.

  The reception was an elaborate one at the hotel. The chef had outdone himself with the lavish spread of tempting dishes and a huge, multitiered wedding cake.

  It was easy to forget the unorthodox reason for their marriage as guest after guest congratulated them, and before long Leslie gave herself up to total enjoyment of the whole thing. In fact, it would have been easy enough to fall into the trap of thinking that Rod genuinely did care for her because he was constantly at her side, and whenever he looked at her he would be smiling with such a tender, loving expression that it would cause her heart to miss a beat. It wasn't true, she reminded herself sternly a couple of times, but surely it wasn't wrong of her to just pretend to herself that it was… just for today.

  Musicians played a soft love melody and Leslie and Rod danced together, having the entire floor to themselves for the first dance. Next she danced with her father, then Mr. Castle, and after that Dave Hammond, Rod's best man.

  "Rod has all the luck," Dave complained as he whirled her around the floor. "How am I ever going to live without you?" he asked. "I'll be so lonely I'll probably just curl up and die."

  "In that case," Leslie told him, "the remedy is a new love." She spotted Patsy near the dance floor and added, "Come on, it's time you got better acquainted with my old roommate."

  "You mean that redheaded beauty?" Dave grinned impishly. "Lead me to the remedy, quick."

  A few minutes later she left the two of them totally engrossed in conversation. She saw Rod and his father standing a few yards away and walked over to join them.

  Rod smiled as she went to his side and once again his arm went almost possessively around her waist. "We were just talking about you, darling. Dad has a gift for you."

  "Another gift, Mr. Castle?" Leslie asked. "But you already gave us that beautiful silver tea set."

  "This is for you personally, my dear, as a welcome into the family." He held out a key and at Leslie's puzzled expression explained, "It's the key to the jade cabinet. The contents now belong to you."

  Leslie paled and shook her head. "I… it's very generous of you, Mr. Castle, but I can't accept a gift like that! It's far too valuable."

  "You are now my daughter," Mr. Castle said firmly, "and I want you to have it. I bought the collection through the years for my late wife and now I want my son's wife to have it."

  Leslie glanced uncertainly at Rod. He gave an imperceptible nod, indicating she should accept, so after a moment Leslie smiled. "Then I thank you, sir." She leaned forward and kissed his cheek.

  "Will you do just one little favor for me?" Mr. Castle asked her.

  "Anything," Leslie said.

  He smiled. "Call me Dad now."

  "It's a deal, Dad," she told him. But even as she smiled, she realized that already the deception was creating complications she had not foreseen. She had not counted on being accepted quite so wholeheartedly by Rod's father, and it would only serve to make things more awkward and difficult when the day came that they must part.

  An old business acquaintance of Mr. Castle's claimed his attention just then, and Rod led Leslie away to dance. As they began to sway together to the music, Leslie opened her mouth to speak, but Rod spoke first. "No unpleasant speculations about the future," he ordered softly. "Let tomorrow take care of itself. We're going to be happy today."

  "Rod! Rod, my dear, how awful of you to do this without letting me know!"

  Rod's steps faltered and his hand tightened on Leslie's waist. They came to a halt and turned from the dance floor to face the woman who stood there.

  She was stunningly beautiful with golden-blonde hair and a delicate, slender body showed off to advantage by a softly clinging burgundy-colored dress.

  "Estelle!" Rod's face went white, his jawline rigid with tension, as he uttered the one word.

  Estelle rushed forward and flung her arms around Rod's neck and soundly kissed him on the lips. The action dislodged Rod's arm from around Leslie and she stood at his side, watching in blank amazement.

  When the couple drew apart at last, Rod's hand groped for Leslie's, found it, and tightened around it. "Estelle"—his voice came out thickly—"I'd like you to meet my wife."

  Rod made the introductions and Estelle Parini scrutinized Leslie with a strange intentness before smiling. "How do you do?" she asked indifferently before her smoke-gray eyes returned to Rod. "Darling, I had no idea you were about to be married. I would have thought you'd have let me know instead of having it sprung upon me in this shocking way!" Her pink lips pursed into a charming pout. "Surely," she added softly, "you owed me that much."

  "I would certainly have invited you to our wedding if I had known you would be back in the states in time," Rod told her. "How did you happen to find out, anyway?"

  Estelle gave him a reproachful glance. "I didn't know until a few minutes ago, when I arrived to surprise you in your office. Only it was I who received the surprise." Again there was criticism in her voice.

  This time Rod did not answer. Leslie glanced up at him curiously. He was no longer pale. His face had darkened but she still did not know his moods well enough to be able to determine whether he was angry or bemused over Estelle's surprising appearance. Perhaps, she thought, he was regretting his rash impulse to marry her and put a barrier between himself and this lovely creature he still loved. On the other hand, he had married her to put up the barrier and there was no time like the present to do so. Regardless of how Rod felt about Estelle, her unexpected appearance today had clearly upset him. His hand still gripped her own very tightly, as though he were clinging to a lifeline, and Leslie decided to take control of the situation. Besides, for some odd reason she resented the way Estelle was hanging on to Rod's other arm and standing so close to him. After all, this man was her husband!

  "What a lovely coincidence that you should arrive in time to congratulate us and help us celebrate, Mrs. Parini," she said now with a sweet smile. "I'm sure you're acquainted with many of our guests, so I hope you will enjoy yourself." She lifted her face toward Rod and said appealingly, "I do hate to drag you away from an old friend, darling, but I see a number of people beckoning to us. I'm afraid we'll really have to go and mingle if we don't want anyone to feel slighted."

  Rod nodded. "Of course." Then: "Will you excuse us, Estelle?"

  They were halfway across the room before Rod bent toward her and asked, "Who wanted to speak with us?"

  "Anybody and everybody and nobody," Leslie replied.

  Rod's eyebrows shot up. "You mean you made it up to get us away?" he asked in surprise. And when Leslie nodded, he breathed, "Thank God!"

  In that instant Leslie knew that Estelle's presence had shaken Rod a great deal, and she hated her for it, hated her for hurting Rod and for ruining their wedding day. Until she had arrived the romantic illusion had been so lovely, so perfect in every way, but now it was spoiled. Their marriage would begin, after all, with a note of ugly reality.

  Chapter Four
>
  Leslie wrapped her arms around her legs and sucked in a deep breath of pure enjoyment as she gazed at the placid lake. It was so lovely and peaceful—as different from the hustle and bustle of normal city living as sunlight from a moonless night.

  She stole a quick glance at her husband. My husband. The words seemed so strange to her tongue and she wondered if she would ever get used to them.

  They had been here for three wonderful days, staying at an isolated cabin in the forest not far from Yosemite National Park. They had visited the park twice, one day sight-seeing by horseback, another hiking on foot, and Rod had made it a point to carry her to see Bridalveil Fall, which on their honeymoon, he told her, was only fitting and proper.

  It was difficult to think of herself as a bride on her honeymoon, however. True, they were both having a wonderful holiday and the easy camaraderie and rapport they had developed with each other were amazing and gratifying. The cabin, which belonged to a friend of Rod's, was a rustic, comfortable place in a beautifully romantic setting. It was an ideal spot for a honeymoon, Leslie thought now—especially if the honeymoon was a real one.

  Theirs was not. The cabin boasted two bedrooms, and while they were necessarily living in an intimate closeness, that closeness did not extend to sleeping arrangements.

  They had been sleeping beside each other just now, though, and Leslie glanced again at Rod, who was stretched out beside her on the blanket. He was still asleep and she watched him in fascinated wonder. He looked so young, so defenseless somehow, in sleep— like a little boy. She studied the planes of his face, usually so firm and rock-hard but now softened and relaxed as his dark lashes swept down toward his cheeks. A lock of his hair fell across his forehead and Leslie had the strangest urge to touch him, to smooth the hair away.

  She glanced sharply around toward the lake once more and her fingernails dug into the palms of her hands as she resisted the temptation. She did not understand why she had wanted to do it and it made her feel rather irritated with herself.

  She braced one hand against the blanket, about to get to her feet, when Rod's hand closed around her wrist.

  "Where are you going?" he murmured, sounding still half-asleep.

  Leslie looked down at him. His eyes were partially hooded by his heavy eyelids, effectively shielding both his mood and his thoughts from her. She gave a little shrug. "I just thought I'd take a walk while you finished your nap."

  "Have I been asleep long?" he asked. His thumb was rubbing absently back and forth across her skin, sending tiny sensual thrills through her.

  Leslie gazed at the hand on her arm. "I don't know," she answered. "I only just woke up myself."

  Rod chuckled softly. "That's what's so nice about vacations. You don't even need a watch." Now the hand around her wrist grew firm as he pulled her back down beside him. "Don't hurry away," he whispered as his head came over to nestle against her neck. "Just be lazy with me for a while and then I'll go on that walk with you."

  It was at moments such as this that Leslie felt confused. She never knew quite what to say or do because she was unsure just what it was that Rod expected of her. Sometimes he treated her as though she were a kid sister; other times he treated her like a close and valued friend, and they would talk for hours. And then there were the times such as this when he treated her as a woman, as someone special, and to this she did not know how to respond.

  Rod's arm draped casually across her and she could feel the warmth of his breath on her cheek. "I like the smell of your hair," he told her. "Fresh and clean like a rain-washed morning."

  "How poetic you are!" Leslie's voice was carefully light and teasing, giving no hint of the quivering inside her.

  "I think you must make me poetic," he said seriously, as though surprised. He propped himself up on one elbow and peered into her face. "There's something very appealing about you, Leslie." His eyes traveled the length of her, taking in the jeans that hugged her hips and legs and the snug-fitting knit top that curved itself around her breasts. "You've got one of the sexiest figures I've ever seen and yet there's something soft and sensitive and even shy about you—like a frightened little rabbit. See?" His eyes glittered with sudden amusement. "You're blushing right now! How come I never noticed you blushing as my prim Miss Foster?"

  Leslie shoved his arm away from her and jackknifed into a sitting position. "You never used to make such personal comments to your prim secretary," she said crossly.

  Rod laughed aloud; then, without warning, he sat up quickly and, leaning over, kissed her ear. "That's true, I didn't, but I'm quite certain that if I had you'd have promptly put me in my place. Either that or you would have quit the job. But you can't quit this one, Leslie, and it's perfectly legal for a man to flirt with his wife, especially on their honeymoon."

  And flirting was all it amounted to, Leslie decided irritably as they gathered up the blanket and picnic basket and set out along the lakeshore. Rod liked her, felt comfortable with her, and even admired her looks; they were isolated up here alone together and he was merely amusing himself by flirting with her. That was all there was to it. It was done in casual fun, and not once did he attempt to move beneath the surface toward a deeper relationship. The trouble with that, though, was that while she did still feel a certain shyness with him—a hangover from the long period of time when he had been her employer—there was within her a growing awareness of Rod as a man. She could feel his virile masculinity pulling at her senses like a powerful magnet, and it left her frustrated over the circumstances she found herself in. She did not want a casual flirtation with her own husband!

  She was uncertain what it was that she did want. She had entered this marriage not really wanting anything from it. She had simply been paying a debt. That had changed the minute she had set eyes on Estelle Parini. She had instantly disliked the other woman and had hotly resented her intrusion upon their wedding. They had been having such a wonderful time until she had arrived, and though Rod had expressed relief at getting away from her, it had not lasted. Leslie had been conscious of his gaze following Estelle around the room, and later, when Estelle had come to them again and asked to have a dance with the groom, Rod had gone onto the dance floor quite willingly and Leslie had suffered a pang of something very akin to jealousy, a feeling that returned now as she thought about it. She came second in Rod's heart and, because she knew it was the only place she would ever occupy, she resented even his attempts to show her a second-best affection.

  By the time they returned to the cabin Leslie had walked off her ill humor and when Rod smiled at her she was able to smile back with perfect sincerity. After all, it wasn't his fault that she was beginning to be dissatisfied with the arrangement.

  "My stepmother would have liked this place," Rod said as they entered the cabin. "She used to go with Dad and me on fishing trips because she said she liked to commune with nature." He smiled, reminiscing.

  They had entered the kitchen and Leslie put the kettle on to make coffee. "Sounds like you really admired your stepmother," she remarked.

  "I did," Rod agreed. "I was eleven when she married Dad." He grinned. "I was your typical resentful stepchild at first, but she was the persistent type and wouldn't leave me alone to sulk. She had a way of sublimely overlooking my rude behavior and going right on as though everything were perfect between us. It crumbled all my defenses to dust, of course, and before the year was out I adored her as much as Dad did."

  "How old were you when your real mother died?" Leslie asked curiously.

  "I was eight when she… went." Rod's face took on a closed, forbidding look that shut her out. Leslie suddenly recalled the hint Dave Hammond had once dropped that something concerning Rod's real mother had caused him pain. She wanted very much to know what it was because she felt instinctively that it would give her a greater insight about him, but he looked so cold and remote that she did not dare probe.

  After supper that evening Rod wandered outside as he usually did. Leslie decided to take he
r bath and then curl up in bed with a novel.

  She lolled for a long time in the bath, her thoughts flitting from everything to nothing as her muscles relaxed. But after a while the water grew cold and was no longer inviting, so she climbed out and began to dry herself off.

  She had forgotten to bring in her nightgown and robe. She could not imagine how she could have done it, but she had, so now she had no choice but to parade through the living room wrapped in a towel. She chewed her lower lip in aggravation as she twined the towel together into a knot just above her breast. She could only hope that Rod was still outside.

  The hope died as she opened the door and saw him standing near the window. At the sound of the door opening, he turned toward her, saying, "It's cool out tonight. I…" He broke off as he saw her.

  "I… I forgot my things," Leslie murmured in a low voice. Her limbs were stiff as she began to move toward the bedroom.

  Two long strides brought Rod to her. There was a strange expression darkening his eyes. "Leslie," he whispered huskily. His hand went out to touch her bare shoulder and she shivered from the contact. "Your skin is like silk," he added in a strangely thick voice.

  Leslie swallowed hard. "I… I think I'd better…" She did not finish the sentence. As Rod's face came closer to hers, the words knotted in her throat, and then his lips were on hers.

  For a moment she tensed, resisted with every nerve in her body, but Rod's lips were insistently forcing hers to part. His arms slid around her, pulling her warm, flushed body against him, and the action opened a floodgate of desire within her. Leslie's arms went up to his shoulders and one hand caressed his temple where her sensitive fingers located a throbbing pulse.