Rod's steel-blue eyes hardened like cooling metal as he glared at her. "Don't you ever do that again," he told her in a dangerously controlled voice that sent shivers through her, "or I'll make you sorry you ever met me."
"I already am," she flared recklessly. "You're disgusting and your mind dwells at gutter level!"
"Does it, now?" His mouth twisted into a sneer. "And what am I to think when I discover you with another man at this hour of the morning?" He took a meaning step toward her until his face was only an inch or so from hers. "I'm warning you, wife"—and the way he spat out the word it sounded like a dirty slur—"I will not tolerate such a thing. No matter what you did in the past or what you will do in the future, as long as you are married to me you will behave circumspectly. I saved your name from being dragged in the mud once and now you will do the same for mine. You will not embarrass me with loose, immoral behavior!"
Leslie was trembling with a rage that she was afraid was going to literally consume her. "I will," she said very concisely, "do exactly as I wish, Rod Castle, and there is nothing you can do to stop me! This evening was quite as innocent as it was unexpected. Dave already explained that Patsy was with us, but you chose to ignore that fact. But let me get something straight right now. Even if the evening had been planned, I would still have gone. It's been quite boring here alone and I have no intention of sitting home by myself night after night going crazy with nothing to do. Furthermore, I have no intention of giving up any of my old friends just because I am married to you, and Dave happens to fall into the category of my friend as well as yours. And lastly, you can stop this stupid jealous husband act at once! I find it ridiculous and in poor taste, considering the circumstances. And now, if you'll excuse me," she ended, squaring her shoulders and thrusting out her chin, "I'm going to bed."
Chapter Five
Leslie flipped over in the bed, peered at the clock on the bedside table, and was astonished to see it was already eight fifteen. She had not slept this late in years.
It was all a result of last night, of course. After the quarrel with Rod she had been so upset that she had stayed awake for hours before finally dropping off to sleep through sheer exhaustion.
She supposed she ought to get up now, she thought fleetingly, but she felt disinclined to make the effort. She had no desire to get up and face Rod across the breakfast table just as though everything was fine, and with Benny there serving them that was what she would have to do. Maybe if she just stayed here long enough, Rod would leave the house and she would be spared the ordeal of seeing him for a few more hours, at least. The memory of Rod's hateful words returned. She was still shocked at his vicious and unwarranted attack. Since their marriage was in no sense a real one, it did not make any sense for Rod to behave like an injured husband. It also did not make sense that his ugly accusations should have such great power to hurt her, but they had. He thought so little of her that he could actually believe she would deliberately cheat on him after only two weeks of marriage! In fact, the truth was that he thought she had had an affair with Joel!
Fresh tears stung her eyes and Leslie brushed them away angrily. If Rod believed all those horrid things about her, then he certainly wasn't worth crying about! She sniffed hard and told herself resolutely that he could believe exactly what he pleased—she didn't care.
She was still lecturing herself sternly five minutes later, with indifferent results, when a knock sounded on the door. She supposed it was Benny, coming to find out whether or not she planned to get up today, but before she could call out the door opened. It was not the main door leading into the hall, as she had thought, but the side door that opened into Rod's room. A second later Rod had crossed the room and was standing beside her bed.
Leslie struggled to sit upright, conscious of the transparently thin nightgown she was wearing, and she clutched wildly at the bedcovers, bunching them with her hand above her breasts.
"Get out of my room!" Her voice vibrated with agitation. "I don't want you in here!"
She saw Rod wince and for the first time she really looked at him. He was dressed in dark charcoal slacks, a pin-striped red and white dress shirt with a gray tie, and his hair glistened with tiny droplets of water from his morning shower. But it was his face that commanded her attention. It was colorless and haggard, signifying that he, too, had suffered a sleepless night.
Now his lips stretched into a wry curve. "I can hardly blame you for wanting to throw me out," he said quietly, "but I'd appreciate it if you'd listen to what I have to say first."
Leslie tensed and averted her eyes from the look of appeal in his. She stared at his tie clasp. "I'm listening."
"It won't take long," he told her. "I came to say I'm sorry."
Her lashes flew up and she looked at him with amazement. She was not sure what she had expected him to say, but most definitely it had not been an apology—not after his black fury last night. Even now she was not sure she had heard correctly. "What did you say?"
"I said I'm sorry." Swiftly, he moved toward her and sat down on the edge of the bed. "I don't know what came over me last night, Leslie. I must have been insane with worry about you to lash out as I did. I said things I didn't mean. You must believe me." He gathered her hands into his, which caused the blanket to slide down to Leslie's waist, but she was too mesmerized by the expression in his eyes to even notice it. "Maybe"—Rod grinned a bit self-consciously— "maybe I'm beginning to take this marriage thing more seriously than I thought to have raged on like a jealous husband. Will you forgive me, Leslie?"
"I… yes, certainly," she managed to get out. "Rod, I'm sorry, too. I didn't mean to upset you or worry you, and truly the evening was…"
"Just a friendly outing," he finished for her. "You don't need to convince me of that. As soon as I cooled down last night, I knew you were telling me the truth. You're the most honest person I've ever known and I should have had better sense than to doubt you for even an instant."
"Yes, you should have," she agreed pertly, and she smiled as Rod laughed.
He stood up. "Be right back," he said before vanishing through the doorway into his own room. He returned immediately, carrying a package, which he dropped in her lap. "For you."
While Leslie began to open it, Rod sat down beside her again, smiling indulgently at her. When she had it opened at last, she gave an exclamation of pleasure. "It's lovely!" Her eyes were alight with appreciation as she pulled from the box a shiny black jade carving of an old woman. "Where did you find it?"
"In Atlanta. It's not really valuable like most of the things in Mom's collection, but it took my fancy, and I thought that since the collection now belongs to you it might be nice if we added to it from time to time."
"It's wonderful," Leslie told him as she turned it around in her hand, viewing it from all angles, "but about that collection, Rod, you know I can't really claim it. Your father will want it to remain in your family after I leave."
Rod took the figurine and box from her and placed them both on the bedside table. Then he placed both his arms on either side of her and the warm expression in his eyes made Leslie's heart behave erratically. "I've been thinking about that this past week, Leslie, while I was away from you. I know I'm the one who insisted on a strictly nonemotional involvement, but the fact is, I'm getting involved anyway. I missed you terribly." Now he smiled and her crazy heart seemed to leap right into her throat. "What about you?" he asked softly. "Did you spare a thought or two for me?"
"Yes." Her voice was thick as she gave him an answering smile. "In fact, I gave you quite a few thoughts. It took up an awful lot of my time," she complained.
"Is that so?" His voice was soft and gently teasing as he leaned closer to her. "That's very interesting news." And then his lips were on hers, warm and possessive.
Rod's arms slid around her as his body pressed down over her. Leslie's fingers threaded through his hair and he moaned softly. His lips left hers to move down to her throat and further, to the hollow betwe
en her breasts. Their touch sent little thrills of ecstasy radiating through Leslie's body.
His hand gently pushed her shoulder strap down as he buried his face in the curve of her neck. She could feel the weight of his thighs against her own. "Leslie," he whispered. "I want you."
She could not speak because her throat was choked with emotion. In answer, her lips pressed against his cheek and her hands dug into his shoulders. She was floating down a river of blissful passion; its warm waters were carrying her swiftly and forcefully toward the rapids and she was helpless to stop it. She could not save herself from the irresistible power of the desire that was surging through her veins. Vaguely, from a great distance, she could hear the telephone ringing; then, after a moment, it stopped.
Rod's hand slid beneath her gown and she shuddered with pleasure as he stroked her skin. "Darling, I…" he began huskily, but the words were cut off by the sound of Benny's voice outside in the hall.
"Mr. Castle, you're wanted on the telephone."
"Damn!" Rod drew slightly away from her and his eyes were glazed by the passion that had held him in its control. He lifted an unsteady hand and brushed back his hair. "I'm coming, Benny!" he shouted. Then, to Leslie, he said in a soft voice, "I'm sorry, darling." He threw a glance at his wristwatch as he sat upright and muttered another oath. "I was supposed to meet with a couple of out-of-town businessmen ten minutes ago. They're probably calling to see what happened to me." He paused and smiled at her, and the tender desire in his eyes sent a quiver of excitement through her. "I'll have to go," he said with oblivious reluctance, "but tonight, I think we really do need to reassess our policy on noninvolvement."
Faint color scalded Leslie's cheeks, but she boldly met his eyes. "I think so, too," she answered firmly.
"It's a date, then." Rod leaned forward, kissed her once more, lingeringly, and then he pulled himself away from her and went out the door.
The morning had a dreamlike quality. All her thoughts were centered on Rod and on the important discovery she had made. She was in love with him.
She had no idea exactly when it had happened; she only recognized it as fact. And now that she was aware of its existence, it explained so many things she had not previously understood. It was why she had been so happy on their wedding day, why she had felt so confident that marrying Rod was the right thing to do. Deep inside, her real self had known the truth all along. It also explained why she had been so unaccountably jealous when Estelle had shown up that day. Why, too, she had been wary of Rod's light flirtation with her at the cabin and so crushed the night he had rejected her. She had wanted, even then, to make the marriage real because it was the one way she could truly express her love for him. Above all else, she wanted Rod's happiness and well-being and she could only hope that she would be the means by which he would achieve them.
But what about Rod's feelings? she wondered now. He had said that he cared for her and had been worried about her. Certainly after this morning she could no longer wonder if he wanted her sexually. Today he had definitely not rejected her; she recalled with tender amusement his irritation when Benny had called him to the telephone. But the question was, did all of that add up to love or was it merely the age-old pull of physical appeal?
Surely he loved her! Rod had called her darling, he had said that he wanted her, and he had teasingly reminded her that they must reevaluate their policy against emotional noninvolvement, so didn't all that point to the fact that he must love her, too? There could be no other possible explanation, and tonight— tonight she was certain that he would leave her in no doubt at all.
Leslie went to Rod's bedroom and unpacked his suitcase. It felt strange to be handling his clothes—to be tucking shirts away in a bureau drawer and deciding what must go to the cleaners—but there was pleasure in the little chore. It was only, after all, what a real wife did for her husband as a matter of course.
When she had emptied the suitcase, she removed it from the huge bed that was centered against one wall, and as she smoothed out the antique-gold bedspread, her heart raced as she realized that tonight, in all probability, she would be sleeping here.
That evening, Leslie dressed in a flowing, floor-length dress with a yellow top and a floral brown, beige, and matching yellow skirt. The dress was a good color, she decided critically as she stood before the mirror and put on gold hooped earrings. The bodice went well with the dark cloud of hair that fanned out across her shoulders. Her chocolate eyes, she noticed, sparkled with anticipation and an underlying happiness that still lingered from the morning.
When she had finished dressing, she went into the dining room to check things there. Benny, following her instructions, had set their places next to each other, Rod's at the head of the table, hers to his right. It would be far more pleasant than attempting to make conversation from one end of the long table to the other.
Rod arrived home shortly after six and Leslie met him at the door. It took only a single glance at his face for her to realize his mood was light-years removed from the morning. He appeared tired and his shoulders slumped beneath his jacket.
Leslie longed to touch him, to soothe away the lines of weariness and strain from his brow, but she was still too uncertain of their relationship to do it. She contented herself instead by saying, "You look worn out. Would you like me to fix you a drink and put dinner back a few minutes so you can unwind?"
"Would you? I am beat," he admitted.
"Of course," she assured him. "Bourbon?" At his nod she crossed the living room to the bar and poured the bourbon and water, then carried it back to him, where he had dropped into one of the armchairs.
"Thanks," he murmured as he took the glass from her. "Aren't you having one?"
"I'll make myself one in a moment, just as soon as I tell Benny to hold off serving the meal for a little while."
When she came back into the room a few minutes later, poured her own drink, and went over to sit on the sofa, Rod's eyes were closed and his legs were stretched out in front of him.
He must have sensed her presence, because after a moment he opened his eyes and smiled at her. "What have you been doing with yourself all day besides making yourself beautiful?"
"Never mind that," Leslie said, ignoring the compliment. "What have you been doing? Rod, you just got home last night, today is Saturday, and you ought to be spending the weekend resting up, yet here you are so tired you're ready to drop."
Rod cocked an eyebrow and his lips stretched into a grin. "Do you know you sounded exactly like a wife just then?"
"Did I?" Leslie was not amused. "If I did, maybe it's because it's high time someone does."
"Maybe it is," he agreed. "If the someone is you, I just might even get to like it." His blue eyes were definitely twinkling now. "There's something to be said, after all, to coming home and being met at the door by a lovely wife, being handed a drink, and then getting a scolding for working too hard."
Leslie laughed, unaware of her own sparkling eyes and the vivid color that highlighted her cheeks. "Now be serious and tell me what you did today that made you so tired. Then I'll recap what went on this past week while you were away."
Rod took a sip of his drink and stood up, stretching his long limbs, and walked over to place his glass on the mantel. "The business meeting this morning was with some people who are offering us some land in Chicago."
Leslie turned so that she could look at him and rested her arm along the back of the sofa. "Are you going to put a new hotel there?" she asked in surprise.
Rod shrugged. "Not in the near future. But this land is in a good location and the selling price is reasonable, so I'm wondering whether to go ahead and buy it as a possible sight for building later on."
"What did you tell them?"
"That I'd decide by the end of the month." He picked up his drink and drained it.
"You know, I really believe we're going to have to give you an official vice-president's designation, Leslie. Carl told me today how well you hand
led that pension plan meeting. We've been wasting your talents by using you as a mere secretary."
Leslie felt a warm glow at his words. It made her happy to think that she could be of genuine help to Rod in his business and surely that argued well for their marriage. She smiled. "Thank you very much," she said demurely. "But right now I think we've discussed business enough, don't you? Let's have dinner."
Over dinner Leslie talked about what she had done the past week while he had been away, and before the meal was over she could actually see Rod's face losing some of the tension that had been in it; his eyes no longer had a tired, glazed look and his mouth and jaw softened in relaxation.
They went back into the living room for coffee and this time Rod joined her on the sofa.
He smiled. "It looks to me as though you're fitting yourself into my life with no effort at all. You've already got the office staff on your side—and Benny as well, it seems."
"Is that bad?"
Rod set his cup and saucer onto the table, then took one of her hands in his. "That's not bad at all, and you know it," he said softly. "But what about us? Do you think we fit together as well?"
"Is that what you want?" she asked with slight catch in her voice.
He nodded and now his eyes were dark and serious. "Yes," he said slowly, "it is. When we first decided to marry I was just using you, Leslie—you know that. I wanted a guard against Estelle and I knew I could pressure you into falling in with my intentions, but the last thing I wanted was a woman having any sort of influence over my life."
"And now?"
His lips softened into a smile. "Now I find that it's not so easy to isolate yourself from someone when you live with them. Whether I like it or not, I feel married to you, I feel responsible for you, and I feel a special closeness to you, just knowing you live in my house and bear my name. And I know that right now I want to hold you and make love to you. Do you think it's possible to start from a basis such as this and build a real marriage?"
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