Rod's aunt, Lucy Thornton, met them at the Miami International Airport. In appearance, Lucy Thornton was nothing like her brother, except for those incredibly clear blue eyes, which, Leslie sensed instinctively, missed very little. She was built along such petite, delicate lines that Leslie wondered that a strong ocean breeze didn't blow her away.
Rod swooped his aunt up in an enveloping bear hug and, standing on tiptoes, Lucy Thornton kissed his cheek and patted his face. Then, with Rod's arm still around her waist, she turned her attention to Leslie.
"Hello, Leslie. You're even more beautiful than John said you were," she said warmly. She left the circle of Rod's embrace and gathered Leslie to her with a welcoming hug. "I'm glad you're here with Rod, my dear."
"Thank you, Mrs. Thornton," Leslie said.
"Call me Lucy. You're family now, remember?"
"How is Dad, Aunt Lucy?" Rod asked as the three of them began to move in the direction of the baggage claim area.
The blue eyes dulled and Lucy shook her well-coifed gray head. "He's no better, son. He's in the intensive care unit and we've got one of the best heart specialists in Miami attending him. They're doing everything they possibly can for him. He's stable right now, but there is concern that he might have another attack. I wish I could give you better news, Rod, but I figure you've got to know how things really stand." Her voice quavered for the first time, revealing the stress she was suffering. After they had claimed their luggage and climbed into Lucy's car, Rod drove toward town and the hospital. "Does Dad know we're coming?" he asked.
Lucy occupied the front seat beside him while Leslie sat in back. "Oh, yes, I told him this morning. Roberto is at the hospital now." She half-turned in the seat so that she could face Leslie and explained, "Roberto and his wife, Isabel, work for both John and me. Isabel cleans and cooks and Roberto does all the other odd jobs that need doing. Isabel says that John was feeling bad all day yesterday and didn't touch a bite of food last evening. She couldn't talk him into calling a doctor but she was worried enough about him that she insisted Roberto stay in the apartment last night. It's a good thing he did, because if he hadn't John would have died. He had the attack just after midnight."
It was late afternoon by the time they arrived at the hospital and were allowed in to see John Castle. A nurse hovered near the door and said in a low voice, "You and your wife may visit him for a few minutes, Mr. Castle. His sister will have to remain out here. Only two visitors are allowed at a time."
Rod nodded and lightly touched Leslie's waist and they entered the small cubicle where Rod's father lay in bed.
"Hi, Dad," Rod said quietly. "Leslie and I just arrived. I hope you're feeling better."
John Castle blinked his eyes and then his gaze slowly moved from his son's face to Leslie's. She stepped close to the bed and bent down and kissed his forehead.
"Hello, Dad," she said softly. "I know you're a very strong man and you're going to get well quickly for us, aren't you?"
He blinked again and there was a small hint of a smile in the crinkling of the skin about his eyes.
It seemed to Leslie that they had only been allowed at his bedside for a mere instant and then the same nurse was there, firmly telling them visiting time was up but that they could see him again later.
The next hours were interminable. Roberto, who had been there continually since the previous evening, was reluctantly convinced by Rod to go home, but when Rod tried to get Lucy to go, he failed in his effort.
A couple of times during the evening a kindly nurse stopped by to tell them that the patient's condition remained stable and to assure them that this was an encouraging sign. Twice more they were allowed to take turns visiting John Castle again, but the rest of the time was filled by drinking coffee, walking the halls, or flipping restlessly through year-old magazines.
At nine the head night nurse came out and ordered them to go home. "Mr. Castle has been given medication to make him sleep and at the moment is resting comfortably. There is nothing any of you can do here, so go home and get some rest yourselves. If his condition should alter, I promise we will call you at once."
Rod glanced down at Leslie's fatigue-darkened eyes and then at his aunt's pale face with the deep purple shadows beneath her eyes and abruptly nodded. "She's right," he said. "There's no sense in our sitting here all night when there's nothing we can do to help him."
"You have my telephone number?" Lucy asked the nurse. "They"—she waved a hand indicating Leslie and Rod—"will be staying with me at my apartment."
"Yes, Mrs. Thornton, I do," the nurse assured her.
They ate a late dinner that Isabel had prepared and left for them but Leslie was so exhausted that she found it difficult to force even a few bites down.
After the meal, Lucy showed them to the one spare bedroom. When she was gone, Rod looked across at Leslie with an apology in his eyes. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I never thought about this happening."
"Neither did I," Leslie admitted. She shook her head. "Never mind," she added. "It can't be helped." Quite frankly, she was so tired from the long day and the lack of proper sleep that she simply could not be bothered to be concerned in any way over the fact that they had been given a room—and a bed—to share together, and by the looks of Rod, she didn't think he was in much shape to care one way or another either. Now Leslie walked over to the bed and opened the suitcase that was on it and pulled out a nightgown and robe. "I'm going to take a shower and go straight to bed." This time she lifted her eyes to meet his. "To sleep."
There was a strained look to his face but his sudden smile dispelled it. "I get your message loud and clear, and believe me, that's all I want right now myself."
"So long as we understand each other," she said as she went toward the door with her night things draped across her arm.
The hot shower was relaxing and Leslie was yawning by the time she returned to the bedroom clad in her nightgown and robe. Rod was there sitting in an armchair, and as soon as she entered he stood up, gathered his own things, and left the room.
Leslie crawled into the double bed, wondering doubtfully whether or not the bed was large enough for them to stay strictly apart. She inched as near to her edge of the bed as possible, closed her eyes, and was almost instantly asleep.
When she awoke, hours later, it was to an awareness of toasty warmth such as she had never before experienced. As she gradually became more alert, she realized why. Rod's body was cuddled up to hers and one of his arms was draped across her middle. She could feel his light, even breathing against her neck as he slept.
Leslie lay very still and rigid. It was the most wonderful feeling imaginable, being held in his arms like this, and for a moment she allowed her senses to dominate and she relaxed, savoring the exquisite pleasure. It was exactly as she had dreamed it would be.
Suddenly Rod's arm tightened about her and his hand pressed against her stomach and began moving back and forth across the silkiness of her nightgown with a caressing gesture. Leslie stiffened at once and his lips began trailing gently across her neck and up to her earlobe, which he began to nibble.
"You're very soft and warm," he murmured sleepily, "and I want you very much."
Dear God, she thought frantically, he must think I'm Estelle! He must have been dreaming about her. Leslie shoved his hand away and moved closer to the edge of the bed. Maybe if she just eased away from him he would forget what he was doing and would go back to sleep.
Instead his arm came out again and wrapped itself around her, and with a strong movement he slid her back until once again she could feel the warmth of his entire body next to hers. Then, gently, he pulled her over onto her back, and in the darkness she could see only his black outline as he bent low and his lips took hers.
It was a kiss unlike any they had previously shared— probing, seeking, demanding—and as liquid fire slowly spread its way through her veins Leslie's own lips softened, losing all resistance. As his hands slid beneath her, roving up and d
own her back, sending little chills up her spine, her own fingers crept up his shoulders, delighting in the touch of his bare, warm skin.
When his hand came around and probed gently inside her gown, cupping her breast, Leslie gave a little moan beneath his lips. She was becoming lost in an ocean of emotions that were all-powerful, all-consuming.
Rod drew back a fraction of an inch and whispered, "Leslie, I need you." His voice was husky and slightly broken, and it was that, together with his use of her name, that was her undoing. He was not imagining that she was Estelle after all, and the hoarseness in his voice told her that she was affecting his senses as strongly as he was hers.
Her throat was clogged with desire so that she could not have spoken if it had been required of her. She could only respond by showing him, without words, that she wanted him, too. Her hand went up to the back of his head and entangled itself in his hair as she pulled him back to her and offered her lips to him.
When morning came, Leslie opened her eyes to find dazzling Florida sunlight flooding the room. Immediately, she turned her head on the pillow to look at Rod, but his place in the bed was empty. Only the indentation on the pillow and the thrown-back covers showed that he had slept there.
Before she had a single moment to recall the momentous events of the night, the bedroom door opened and Rod came in, carrying a small tray with two cups of coffee on it. He was clad only in his pajama bottoms and a robe, and as their eyes met from across the room Leslie felt her face redden.
Rod set the tray on the bedside table and then smiled down at her with such warmth and tenderness that it clutched at her heart like a vise. "Good morning, Mrs. Castle," he said. "You're very beautiful when you blush. In fact, you're very beautiful all over."
"Rod!" Leslie's voice was scandalized.
He grinned and sat down on the edge of the bed beside her. "Isn't a husband allowed to admire his wife's body?" he teased.
Leslie felt tongue-tied as she realized she was still naked beneath the covers.
Rod, sensing her embarrassment, dropped his teasing immediately. "I don't want you ever to be embarrassed in front of me, Leslie," he told her seriously as he reached out and took her hand in his. "We are married, as I think you pointed out to me once, and there's no reason why we should not be honest in our feelings toward each other, is there?" She shook her head slightly, and he continued, his voice thickening, "Last night was perfect. We shared the special closeness that should be there between every man and wife. Sex is a beautiful thing between two people who really care about each other and who give to each other honestly and without reservations. Not all marriages are so lucky, but I think we have something very precious. At least, I know you've made me very happy."
"I… I'm happy, too," she admitted in a wavering voice.
"That's my girl!" He bent his head and kissed her briefly, then drew back. "I'd like very much to make love to you now, all over again, but it's getting late and we need to get up to the hospital. Isabel is cooking breakfast, so why don't you drink your coffee and then get dressed?"
The change that that night had wrought in Rod continually awed Leslie during the next few days. Although he was still weighted down with concern about his father's health, there was, nevertheless, a strange lightness in his demeanor that Leslie had never seen before. He seemed boyishly insistent about having her with him at all times, whether it was sitting in the hospital lounge, grabbing a quick bite to eat somewhere, or taking a short drive for a change of scene. And at night, when they were alone together, the trace of boyishness vanished and he became all man, virile and strong, her husband and her lover.
"When we get back home," he ordered sternly one night as they lay in the afterglow of their lovemaking, "the first thing you're going to do is move your things into my bedroom."
"And what if I prefer my room?" she teased as her fingers traced a pattern across his bare chest.
"Then I'll just have to move into it with you," he told her with a trace of arrogance. "Our place is together."
Leslie thrilled to his words, for they were exactly what she wanted to hear. There were only three more words he could have added that would have made her happiness complete, but he did not say them. Rod enjoyed their new, intimate relationship, but the fact that he never said he loved her was an omission that left a dark bruised spot on her heart.
Rod's father was gradually improving and they were all pleased with his progress. Although he was still in intensive care, he did not have to be on oxygen so often, and occasionally, very briefly, he was allowed to speak to them.
Wednesday, the first day he was given the privilege, it became apparent at once that though he was retired, not to mention ill, the fate of the hotel chain he had begun still dominated much of his thoughts.
"Son," he said that afternoon as Leslie and Rod stood beside his bed, "it's very nice to have you here, but I'd rather you'd get back to running the business."
Rod smiled tolerantly. "I will, Dad," he promised, "just as soon as they move you out of here into a private room. Then I'll know for sure you're on the upswing."
"And what about in the meantime?" John Castle snapped irritably. "Aren't you supposed to meet with a bunch of bankers Friday about a loan for that new hotel in Cincinnati?"
"I'll just call and cancel it, Dad."
"No, I don't want you to do that," his father argued. "It's too important to postpone."
Rod sighed and threw Leslie a look that told her he felt both exasperated and trapped. Then, turning back to his father, he said pleasantly and patiently, "I'm sorry, Dad, but I'm not going to rush back to California for anything. You're more important than another hotel."
"Damn it, son, what can you do for me here?" Mr. Castle exploded wrathfully. "I'll be all right and I want you to go back and…"
"No."
Leslie had been looking from one to the other with secret amusement. They were both hard-headed and it was probably one of the attributes of their success in the business world. But Rod's father was getting himself worked up and that was no good.
"I will go back and meet with the bankers," she injected calmly. "That way Rod can stay here."
Both men dropped the hostile glares at each other as they turned to stare at her in blank astonishment.
"You?" John Castle asked. "What in the devil do you know about it?"
Suddenly Rod laughed and the look he threw Leslie was filled with approval. "She knows almost as much about it as I do, Dad," Rod said quickly. "Leslie did a lot of work on the cost analysis for that hotel, and what little she doesn't know I can explain to her. Last week, while I was away on business, she took over and ran the office without the slightest hitch."
John Castle's eyes widened. "You don't say." Rod nodded. "I do say. Give her a little more time and I should think she could take over and run the whole chain single-handedly."
"You like the hotel business, do you, Leslie?" John Castle asked.
Leslie smiled. "Yes, Dad, I guess I do." Leslie was able to book an early morning flight for the next day and then Rod sat down with her and they spent a few hours going over the presentation she would be making to the bankers. "They're pretty hard-boiled men," Rod warned, "and since it'll be you there instead of me, they probably won't commit themselves one way or another about whether they'll give us the loan, so don't feel bad if they don't. But at least you can show them these figures and explain them and we'll be that much farther ahead of the game by the time I get back."
Lucy said her goodbye to Leslie early the next morning and then Rod took Leslie to the airport.
When her plane was called, Rod looked suddenly grim. "I don't want you to go," he said huskily.
"And I don't want to go," she whispered.
"If Dad continues to improve, I'll hope to get home either Monday or Tuesday."
She nodded. "I'll look forward to it."
He pulled her into his arms and crushed her to him. His kiss was hard and demanding, as though it might be the last one he
would ever have. It snatched Leslie's breath away and her heart was thumping crazily when he released her at last. Awareness of their surroundings returned, and reluctantly she turned from him and walked through the gate toward the plane.
The following morning she was all business as she walked into the office at the hotel. Rod's new secretary, Jenny Baker, was expecting her. "Good morning, Mrs. Castle. Mr. Castle telephoned yesterday to say you would be in today. I've already pulled the file on the cost analysis and it's on your desk. I've placed the mail there, too. Would you care for some coffee?"
"Fine. Thank you, Jenny." Leslie answered automatically as she walked into Rod's office. She was wearing a black slim-skirted dress with a soft woolen matching jacket. Her hair was swept up into a neat style atop her head. Today she needed every ounce of sophistication and calm that she could project. She knew she looked the part of a smart woman executive, and as she sat down at the desk and began flipping through the folder, she knew that she was well versed in the facts she would need to present. But, all the same, her stomach quaked with nervous dread. Rod was leaving a great deal in her hands and she did not want to fail him.
By noon she realized that she had worried needlessly. She had explained at once to the group of bankers why she, rather than Rod, was appearing before them, then went on to assure them that she knew the facts and figures and could present them now for their consideration. One or two of the older men, who had in years past been personal friends with John Castle, expressed regret and concern over his illness, and this, more than anything, Leslie felt, predisposed them in favor of hearing her out. Once she had finished the presentation, much to her surprise and pleasure, they had not only gone right ahead and awarded the loan, but a couple of them actually complimented her on her knowledge of what was involved and her grasp of complicated mathematical charts.
Leslie was flying high when she returned to the office, and the first thing she did was telephone Rod at Lucy's apartment. "He's not here, Mrs. Castle," Isabel told her. "He's at the hospital with Mrs. Thornton."
Shadow of Love Page 10