Shadow of Love

by Sondra Stanford

Benny rubbed the soft cloth up and down on the refrigerator door and he chuckled. "He was always grouchy while you were away. I guess he didn't like the house without you." He shrugged his shoulders. "Did you sleep this afternoon? Mr. Castle called to talk to you around two-thirty, but when I knocked at your door you didn't answer."

  "Yes, I did take a long nap and now I'm starving. Do you have anything that can go into a quick sandwich?"

  "Certainly." Benny nodded. "A little ham. I'll fix it for you." He opened the refrigerator door and pulled out a platter. As he carried it across to the work counter, he added, "What would you like for dinner? I can fix a steak if you like. When Mr. Castle called, he said to tell you he wouldn't be able to make it home in time for dinner. Some meeting that suddenly came up."

  "I see," Leslie said slowly. "In that case, don't bother about dinner, Benny. I think I'll just go out myself. There's no sense in your staying to cook just for me." She moved toward the door. "Just bring the sandwich to the living room, will you?"

  "Sure," Benny answered.

  Leslie went from the room quickly so that she could get her emotions under control before Benny brought in the sandwich. She went into the living room and sank down in a chair and lifted her hand to nurse the throbbing pulse at her temple. Her first night back and Rod wasn't coming home. He would be with Estelle instead—she knew it. Benny was mistaken about the reason Rod had been so "grouchy" the past week. It was because he felt trapped in a marriage that no longer served its purpose, not because he had missed her, and the fact that he was staying away tonight proved it beyond any doubt.

  Well, she would not be here when he returned. Let him wonder where she was and what she was doing! She had told Benny she would be going out to eat but that would not take up a whole evening. There was only one place to go where she could stay as long as she pleased.

  Patsy did not even attempt to hide her astonishment at finding Leslie at her door that evening. "I thought you were in Cincinnati," she said as she backed away so Leslie could enter.

  "I got back this morning."

  Patsy's eyebrows lifted. "In that case, what are you doing here?" she asked bluntly. "Why aren't you at home with Rod?"

  Leslie shrugged with what she hoped was casual indifference. "Oh, he had a meeting he couldn't get out of tonight," she said, "and I just thought it would be a good opportunity to visit you."

  "Come on in the kitchen," Patsy invited. "Dave is here and we just finished eating and we're cleaning the dishes."

  "Oh!" Leslie suddenly felt like an intruder. She hadn't given any thought at all to the possibility of Patsy already having company. And even though she knew Dave, she felt out of place and wished fervently that she hadn't come. She half-turned toward the door. "I didn't know you had company, Pat," she whispered. "I'll just go and…"

  Patsy firmly gripped Leslie's elbow. "Don't be an idiot," she growled beneath her breath. "Dave won't mind you being here. He likes you. Come on in and we'll make some coffee."

  Dave certainly did not appear to mind Leslie's unexpected presence, and after the dishes were done the three of them sat in the living room listening to records and drinking coffee. Patsy sat with Dave on the sofa while Leslie sat in a nearby chair and the time sped by pleasantly as their talk flitted from one subject to another.

  They were talking companionably about their respective childhoods when the doorbell rang and Patsy went to answer it.

  A moment later, Rod strode into the room, anger stiffening every line of his body. He wore a tan leather sports jacket and dark brown slacks, and as he came to a halt in front of Leslie, glaring down at her, he looked like an avenging giant. His hands went to his hips and his eyes blazed with a blistering fire.

  "Get your coat," he ordered curtly. "You're going home with me… now."

  Leslie stared at him blankly. Never had she seen him this furious and she could not understand the reason for it. "What's wrong?" she asked tentatively. "I was just…"

  "I said get your coat," Rod growled in a menacing voice.

  Leslie flushed, hotly aware of Patsy and Dave looking on. She resented Rod's autocratic orders and for a moment stiffened with resistance. But she was embarrassed to be causing a scene in front of the others. Meekly, she stood up and went to the closet for her coat.

  "I'll… I'll call you tomorrow, Pat," she said as she shrugged her arms inside the coat. "It was fun."

  "Sure." Patsy was staring wide-eyed at her and then her gaze shifted to Rod, who had moved to stand beside the front door. Clearly, she was curious about what was going on, but equally clear was the fact that she was hesitant to interfere in something she did not understand.

  A moment later they were clattering down the stairs. When they reached level ground, Rod gripped Leslie's arm and pulled her toward his car.

  Leslie protested. "My car is here. I'll have to take it."

  "Leave it," he said shortly. "You can pick it up tomorrow." He opened the passenger door of the silver Buick and practically shoved her inside. Then he slammed the door closed before he went around to the driver's side.

  He got inside but did not immediately start the motor. "Do you have any idea how worried I've been tonight?" he asked in a hard voice. "I got home at seven, just as soon as I could get away from my meeting, and you were gone. And now it's after eleven. I've been walking the floor all evening and going crazy wondering if you'd been in an accident or something. But you couldn't wait to rush off to see Dave, could you? You couldn't be bothered to spend any time at home with me, your husband." He sighed heavily and pounded his fist against the steering wheel. "For a while there, I really believed our marriage would work out after all, but now I'm not so sure. Now I think perhaps it was a mistake."

  "It's a mistake that can easily be rectified," Leslie flared. She was trembling with rage and resentment. How could he dare to jump on her as he just had, accusing her of running out to meet another man and not bothering to stay at home to see her husband when he had been with Estelle practically the entire day! It was all just his usual act, putting her in the wrong and trying to save his own conscience! How she hated him! She had believed she loved him but she hadn't—she detested him!

  She swallowed hard and glared unblinkingly out the window. As far as she was concerned, the conversation was over. Tonight she would leave. She would not spend another night under Rod's roof, much less in his bed as his wife.

  "You're absolutely right," Rod agreed coolly as he turned the ignition key. "It is a mistake that can be rectified and I suggest we do so without delay."

  "That's fine with me." Leslie snapped. Then she pressed her lips tightly together and the silence in the car was thick as a late-night fog as they drove toward home.

  A few minutes later the car turned into the driveway and Leslie leaned forward, peering into the darkness ahead. "Someone's here," she said sharply.

  "Damn!" Rod muttered with disgust. "Of all times for someone to… it's a cab and the driver is unloading suitcases. What the hell is going on?"

  He braked the car and they both opened their doors and got out.

  "Rod! Thank goodness you're back! We were worried that we'd have to sit out here in the cold and wait until you returned."

  "Aunt Lucy?" Rod asked incredulously.

  "And me, too, son." John Castle chuckled as he stepped forward into the glare of the headlights.

  "Dad?" Leslie asked dazedly. "What are you doing here? Why didn't you let us know you were coming?"

  Lucy laughed as she kissed first Rod's cheek, then Leslie's. "We decided to surprise you both and come to spend Thanksgiving with you. We wanted you to see how well John is doing now."

  The next few days passed in a blur. Leslie had totally forgotten that the following day was Thanksgiving until Lucy had mentioned it. Fortunately, Benny had not forgotten, and he served an excellent meal of the traditional turkey and dressing. Leslie and Rod were both totally occupied in visiting with his family and not by so much as a glance did either of them remind the ot
her that their marriage was on the rocks. In the presence of the others Rod often called her darling and Leslie responded as best she could with what she hoped was smiling affection. She hated the deception, but in an unspoken agreement with Rod, she knew it was the only course to follow. Rod's father, though he seemed miraculously recovered from the effects of his heart attack, was still in a weakened condition, and, conscious of that fact, they both went out of their way to avoid doing or saying the slightest thing that could possibly upset him.

  At night, she continued to sleep with Rod because a move into the next room would not have gone unnoticed by Lucy. Leslie usually went up to bed before Rod, scrupulously staying to her side of the bed, and if she was not already asleep by the time he came up, she always pretended to be.

  One night, however, Leslie awakened after several hours of sleep to find Rod's body pressed close to hers. His arm was draped across her middle and his face was buried against her neck. Warm sensations of remembered passions spread through her and she was suddenly achingly aware of the love she had tried to deny. It was useless to pretend to herself that she hated him. She would love him until her dying day.

  "Umm, so warm and tender," Rod murmured softly as his hand slid up to touch her breast. "Need you." Now his lips began tracing a teasing pattern across her shoulder and Leslie was slowly being submerged in the velvet warmth of -desire.

  Rod gently pulled her over onto her side so that she was facing him and his hand went up to caress her throat as his lips claimed hers.

  Reason said she should pull away, refuse to allow herself to drown in the temptation of him, but Leslie shut away reason as his arms pulled her tightly against his hard, warm body. Her own need of him was overpowering and she quivered with ecstasy as his hand stroked silkily up and down her thigh. Her own hands were holding him close, ever closer, pressing into the smooth flesh of his back with sensuous delight as she gave herself to him with complete abandon.

  Finally, shuddering and spent, they lay exhausted with their arms still wrapped around each other, their faces still close, although in the thick darkness they could not really see each other.

  "Rod," Leslie began shakily. "About us… about what we talked about, I…"

  "Hush, love," Rod murmured gently as he touched a finger to her lips. "We were perfect together just now. It's enough for the time being. Now, go back to sleep." Then he sucked in a deep breath of contentment, drew her even closer to him, and was silent.

  "Love." He had called her "Love." Leslie did not know if he really meant the word in the way she did, but it had a most satisfying ring to it. With a contented sigh of her own, she closed her eyes and allowed herself to sink blissfully back to sleep.

  By the time Leslie awoke and dressed and went downstairs the following morning, everyone else was already finishing breakfast.

  Rod looked up at her when she walked into the room and the slowly spreading smile he gave her made her heart do a crazy flip.

  "Good morning, sleepy-head. Did you sleep well?" There was a definite devilish twinkle dancing in those clear blue eyes.

  Leslie felt her face growing warm, so she quickly averted her gaze from his.

  A few minutes later, Rod and his father left, the older man having decided to accompany his son to the office, and Lucy poured herself a second cup of coffee to drink while Leslie ate her breakfast. "Rod's been telling me how much of a load of the business you've already taken off his shoulders since he married you. I'm glad he found such a fine wife as you, Leslie, and I just hope you'll always do your best to make him happy. If anybody deserves a bit of happiness, it's that nephew of mine, after all the hurt he's endured in the past."

  "Are you talking about Estelle?" Leslie asked bluntly.

  Lucy nodded. "Estelle, and his mother, too."

  "What did happen about Rod's mother?" Leslie put down her fork and gazed earnestly at the other woman;

  Lucy's eyebrows lifted. "You mean you don't know?"

  Leslie shook her head. "No. Rod doesn't seem to want to talk about his mother."

  Lucy sighed. "That's understandable, but as his wife, you have a right to know, I'd say." She grimaced. "Oh, it's nothing terribly unusual—just sordid. When Rod was about eight she ran off with another man."

  Leslie gasped. "I had no idea," she murmured. "How awful for Rod, and Dad, too."

  "Yes, it was dreadful at the time. You see, the man was one of John's supposedly closest friends. It really crushed him, and it changed Rod from a bubbly, outgoing youngster to a quiet, sullen one." Lucy sighed again and shook her head. "Evelyn literally was the salvation of both of them. She was John's second wife, you know. Different in every way from Rod's mother. They both idolized her, and I don't know who took it the hardest when she died, Rod or John."

  "Yes, I know," Leslie murmured. "Rod has told me how much he loved her. Did his real mother ever attempt to see him again before she died?"

  Lucy stared at her. "Died? Where did you ever get that idea?" she asked. "She's very much alive and living on the East Coast with her fourth husband. At least, I suppose he's her husband," she added dryly. "She calls herself Mrs. West."

  Now it was Leslie's turn to stare. "But… I don't understand. Rod led me to believe she was dead."

  Lucy shrugged. "I suppose to him she is dead. But to answer your question, no, she didn't attempt to see Rod again—at least not that I ever knew about. She writes to me every Christmas, though, and asks about him. I write back and tell her. I can't stand the woman and I'd never dare to tell either Rod or John that I communicate with her in any way, but when all's said and done, she is Rod's mother. Anyway, you can see why Estelle hurt him so badly when she jilted him for another man. It was his mother all over again. Rod can be very hard-nosed about business, but in his personal relations he's very vulnerable to rejection."

  "Estelle is back again," Leslie said candidly. "She's a widow now."

  "So I heard from John after the wedding." Lucy frowned and drained her coffee, then set the cup down on the saucer with a clatter. "You'd better keep a close guard on your husband, my dear. You don't want to allow that gold-digger to get her clutches, into him again, and sometimes a man can be such a fool when it comes to an old flame."

  Leslie was already well aware of that, but this morning she refused to allow herself to dwell on it. Last night Rod had held her in his arms, made love to her, and even called her "Love." Hope had risen up once again from the ashes of despair and she was determined to hold it.

  That evening they gave a small dinner party, inviting several old friends of both John's and Lucy's. Although everyone was a generation older than herself, Leslie enjoyed it because she could see that both Dad and Lucy were having a good time.

  By the time the guests had left, both she and Lucy were tired and ready for bed, but since it was their last night here and John seemed in a talkative mood, he and Rod went into the study to have a last long private visit.

  Leslie never knew what time Rod came to bed because she fell asleep almost at once. When she awoke the following morning, she could hear him singing in the shower. The sound filled her with pleasure and she stretched luxuriously and remained cozily in bed until he finished and she could have her turn.

  A few minutes later the door opened. Rod entered wearing only a bright gold towel wrapped around his waist. Leslie's eyes took in the breadth of his strong chest, the dark hair that swirled in the center of it, the way it tapered down to a narrow waist and hard, trim hips.

  "There is a decided invitation in those dark eyes of yours," Rod said teasingly as he came toward her.

  The dark eyes widened. "Is there?" she asked, struggling to hold back a smile.

  "There definitely is and you know it," he asserted as he sank down to sit on the edge of the bed. "Unfortunately, time is flying and I don't have enough of it to accept the invitation." He leaned over and kissed her, his face warm and still slightly damp from his shower. Then he straightened up. "What with your trip and then Aunt Lucy's and Da
d's arrival, I feel like I haven't really had you to myself for a month." He took her hand in his and absently rubbed his thumb back and forth across her fingers. "How about meeting me at the hotel for lunch after you get back from driving the folks to the airport?"

  "All right." Leslie smiled. "I'd like that."

  "Good." He bent to kiss her again, briefly, then tugged her into an upright position. "Get up, Mrs. Castle. You're far too tempting where you are."

  Leslie laughed, swung her feet to the floor, and ran toward the bathroom.

  The noon traffic was dreadful as Leslie returned to town from the airport and headed toward the hotel. She had told Rod she would meet him at twelve but it was twelve twenty by the time she pulled into the hotel parking garage.

  When she reached Rod's suite, the outer office was empty. His secretary had apparently already gone to lunch. Leslie's footsteps made no sound as she crossed the carpeted room. The door to Rod's private office was closed and, with a little smile on her face, she reached out and turned the handle quietly and walked in, expecting to find him seated at his desk, head bent over his work.

  He was not at his desk. He was standing beside it. Estelle stood in front of him, with her arms twined around his neck, and they were kissing.

  Although she was not aware of it, a startled gasp of pain escaped from Leslie's throat. At once the couple turned to look at her. Rod's eyes registered shock at the sight of her, but that was the last thing Leslie saw before she turned and fled.

  As she ran down the hall she heard Rod shouting her name, but she ignored him. She had to get away, far away, before she fell completely apart.

  Chapter Nine

  Leslie drove without being aware of any sense of direction. She wove through the traffic of the downtown area and after a while found herself heading toward the Golden Gate Bridge. She took it without resistance, merely an automaton in motion, not in the least conscious of the gray waters below or the equally gray sky above.

  Past Sausalito she headed north toward San Rafael with no other reason than that that was the way the highway led. Her hands were frozen on the steering wheel, her eyes were glued to the highway, but her mind blocked out any sense of where she was or what she was doing.