by Diana Palmer
His face darkened with anger. “You were a kid.”
“I was a woman,” she replied hotly, glaring at him. “I loved you!”
He started to speak and then abruptly turned away, staring out over the ocean. “Some great love affair,” he said coldly. “I was a greasy mechanic and you were a schoolgirl. What a future we’d have had.”
She studied his broad back, the thickness of his shaggy black hair gleaming in the sunlight, and loved him still, despite everything. “I would have been happy just to be with you,” she said wistfully. “Too bad you didn’t consider the alternative. If you’d married me, you would have gotten a lot more than five thousand dollars. You’d have had it all. And I was so besotted that I wouldn’t even have realized why you’d married me. You killed the golden goose. Tough luck.”
“It wasn’t like that,” he said in a deep, haunted tone. He turned, and for an instant he let her see the depths of his emotion. An emotion so violent that it frightened her. “It was never like that. Do you want to know why I did it? Do you want the truth?”
“No,” she said abruptly, lowering her eyes. “No. It doesn’t matter anymore.” She sighed wearily and shifted her legs. “Marc, don’t make passes at me anymore, will you? Let me enjoy being with Joe, and don’t complicate things. I won’t hurt him.”
“Why do you give in to me?” he asked pointedly, his gaze searching, curious. “Why do you let me make love to you if Joe’s so important in your life? Why can I get that kind of response out of you if you don’t care about me?”
“Maybe the memories got to me,” she grumbled. “You left some scars that may never be healed, Marc.”
He simply stared at her, as if he were turning her words over in his mind.
“Was that what you meant when you said you couldn’t love? That you couldn’t love...physically?” he asked.
“Any way at all,” she returned. She was tired of it. All of it. She turned away. “Just please leave me alone. I’m sorry I came here. I don’t even understand why I did it now. I guess I just wanted to needle you, to get back at you because I knew you didn’t like me dating Joe.”
His breathing was audible, even above the surf, and she realized why when his big warm hands held her shoulders from close behind.
“I was your friend once,” he said softly. “I wish I could turn time back and erase the hurt, Gaby. I’m sorry I hurt you so badly. I guess I didn’t realize how deep your feelings went. I did what I had to do. For me and for Joe. And I didn’t have a choice.”
The wording was odd, but she didn’t question it. She was too torn up emotionally.
“Turn around, Gaby.”
She wouldn’t. His hands turned her slowly so that she faced his wet, hair-roughened chest, and she watched the muscles ripple as his hands moved up to cup her face and lift it to his probing eyes.
“Such big, sad green eyes,” he remarked. “Listen, pet, we can’t wipe out the past. But couldn’t we put it to one side for a while and get to know each other all over again?”
She swallowed. “Marc, I don’t want—”
“Yeah, I know,” he said, interrupting her and touching her lips with his fingers. “I just want to be friends, little Gaby. If you’re going to be hanging around Joe, I guess we’ll have to try to get along, right?”
She was wary of this new approach, and her face betrayed it.
“I know you don’t trust me,” he said. “That’s okay. Just stop throwing off sparks and chewing on my pride for a while and treat me like a new acquaintance. Can you do that?”
“I don’t know,” she said, faltering.
He glanced toward the surf and watched her color. “Is that the problem, what we just did together?” He let his hands slide down to her shoulders and rest there. “It was natural and beautiful, that sweet passion we shared, Gaby. I’m not ashamed of it, and I don’t want you to be. It was a moment out of time, when two almost-lovers relived the past. I won’t do it again if you don’t want me to. Hands off. I promise.”
It was such a sudden change in attitude that she studied his broad, dark face suspiciously.
“Didn’t you enjoy it, little one?” he asked in a deep, soft tone as he held her eyes.
“It’s unfair to...to Lana...” she began.
“Lana has other men, Gaby. It’s a very loose relationship. No commitment. I wasn’t going to tell you, but we aren’t even sharing a bedroom this trip. She’s just along for fun.”
Her eyes widened in surprise.
“I don’t have to have a woman every night of my life,” he said with a chuckle, and brushed the hair away from her face. “It looks like neither of us is committed. So who does it hurt if we make a little love on an early-morning beach?”
She couldn’t manage an answer to that. Especially not when she looked into his dark eyes, eyes that for the first time lacked the cynicism she’d come to expect from him.
“You’re beautiful without your clothes, little Gaby,” he said, bending. “And I go all trembly like a young boy when I touch you...”
He kissed her gently and slid his warm, searching hands under the towel. She gasped.
“Gaby,” he groaned, increasing the pressure. “Gaby...!”
His voice broke as he suddenly lifted her off the ground and bruised her mouth with a kiss so intimate and hungry that it blinded her to the rest of the world. She slid her arms around his neck and gave in willingly, letting him have the softness of her body without protest. At that moment, if he’d wanted to crush her down into the sand and take her, she would have let him.
“Now you give in,” he whispered shakily against her lips. “Now, when the others will be pouring out of their rooms any minute.” He lifted his head and let her slide down to the ground, letting her feel his instant response to her closeness. “Listen, Gaby,” he said huskily, staring straight into her eyes, “if I take full responsibility for not getting you pregnant, will you come to my room with me right now? Will you lie in my arms again and let me love you the way you should be loved?”
His words stopped her heart. She looked up at him helplessly. It sounded so simple, so easy. He’d protect her. They could make love in his big bed, and she could let him give her ecstasy. Because it would be that. It would be a completion of a love that had never died. It would be fulfillment. She wanted him to the point of obsession. She knew that now. She’d never stopped loving him.
But afterward, what then? After he’d satisfied his passion for her what would he do? Would he walk away and go back to Lana? Would it be just an interlude, a prelude to parting? She couldn’t trust him. He’d betrayed her once.
And what would it do to her? She’d never gotten over him in nine years. If she let him make complete love to her, she never would. The memory of it would destroy her. It would haunt her every night of her life.
“No,” she whispered, and it was the hardest single word she’d ever spoken. She pulled away from him with a tormented spirit and lowered her eyes to the beach. “No. I don’t ever want to know you...completely.”
“You won’t trust me?” he asked unsteadily.
She glanced back at him sadly. “It’s only sex,” she said. “You said so. I don’t want an affair. I just want my career and a little happiness. And when you’ve had time to think about it, you’ll realize that you don’t really want me, either.” While that was registering as shock in his dark eyes, she turned. She tugged the towel back into place and walked toward the beach house. At the moment she’d have given anything to be back in New York City working herself to death. Anything would be better than having to face Marc now, with the memory of this morning between them. She wanted him so much, loved him so much. And all he felt was lust. He couldn’t have put it any plainer. Perhaps she should feel triumphant that she could still drive him crazy with desire for her. But she didn’t. She felt co
ld and ashamed of her easy surrender. Most of all, she was sorry that she’d ever come here. Her reasons seemed silly now. She’d expected that her presence would disturb Marc, and he’d turned the tables on her. Now she was becoming the victim. And she had to get away before she succumbed to his ardor. He knew that he could have her. She was afraid that he wouldn’t hold back anymore, despite her innocence. She had to get away before he destroyed her.
CHAPTER SEVEN
IT WAS LATE morning before Joe dragged out of bed, looking half-dead. Gaby had stayed close to Carla, watching with haunted eyes the way Lana ran to meet Marc out on the patio and clung to him as they walked down the beach. Gaby would never play with him like that, as they’d played in the old days when they were dating. It was all over. There was no going back and no future.
With a clear mind she now knew why he’d planned that seduction scene on the beach. He wanted to show her that he could give her what Joe couldn’t, that he knew she had no real attachment to his brother. He was doing that and revenging himself for her assertion that she didn’t want him. And that was all there had been to it, all mixed in with a little lingering lust. She felt like an idiot, a weak and stupid idiot, for succumbing so easily. She’d always be just a body he’d wanted and never had. He’d never be able to give her what she needed most in the world. Love.
“Hi,” Joe said sheepishly, still tucking a brown shirt into his white slacks as he sat down at the table with her. “Sorry about last night. I got loaded, didn’t I?”
“Just a bit,” she returned, smiling at him. “No harm done.”
“That’s what you think.” He laughed faintly. “Carla, how about some hot coffee? Very strong, very black.”
“For the head?” Carla asked, shaking a finger at him before she winked and went off to fetch the coffee.
“Have you been up long?” Joe asked innocently.
Gaby managed not to blush. “Not long,” she lied. “Lana and Marc are down on the beach. I haven’t seen the Smiths.”
“You’ll see Dave long before you see Steffie, I imagine,” Joe said ruefully. “She took on more than I did last night. Poor kid, she’s the unhappiest woman I ever knew.”
“Her husband is much older, isn’t he?” she asked.
He waited for Carla to serve his coffee and thanked her before he replied. “Yes, about twenty-two years or so. She married him for his money, I think. God knows she’s done enough to try to spend every penny of it.”
“He must make good money working for your company,” she said carelessly.
He looked uncomfortable. “Yeah, he makes good money,” he replied, and concentrated on his coffee.
She shrugged and moved on to other topics of conversation. A little later he went to put on his swimming trunks, and she started out to the front to sit on the deck facing the ocean when she heard a voice.
She stopped in the hallway, trying to figure out where it was coming from.
“...have to be more careful!” The voice was Dave Smith’s, and it sounded frantic. “What if he checks the books? Lay off until the heat dies down. It’s suicide to start it up again so soon!... Yes. Yes, that’s what I said!... No, he’s still in bed, I guess... No. I’ll call you when I get back!”
She moved out of sight, behind a door, as he hung up violently and came storming back down the hall. He was flushed, and she wondered if she’d overheard him blowing up at some unfortunate subordinate. What an odd conversation. Perhaps she should have made her presence known, but it would have only embarrassed him.
Lana and Marc stayed in the shade of the little cabana on the beach after they swam, and Gaby was careful not to go down there. She said she didn’t want to intrude on their privacy and preferred being with Joe, anyway. That flattered him and didn’t arouse his suspicions.
She mentioned the overheard conversation to him after Dave and a yawning, bored Steffie Smith had gone down the road to buy some beer. Joe stared at her for a moment without speaking, as if he were lost for words.
“Oh, it was probably a labor dispute,” he said then, his face red. “Dave’s good at handling them. Don’t...mention it to Marc, okay?” he added then, watching her closely. “Let’s not upset him. He doesn’t get many holidays.”
“I won’t mention it,” she promised. She smiled to cover her suspicions. But something was going on, she’d have bet on it. Joe didn’t lie well. He always turned red.
As the day wore on it became almost impossible to avoid seeing Marc, especially at the table when they ate. But Gaby was careful not to let him catch her eye, and she kept her distance. He noticed it. He couldn’t help but notice it, and it seemed to irritate him greatly. Once in the hall he started to speak to her, and she brushed past him, ignoring him when he called after her. It was unbearable, having to face him after what happened on the beach. The more she recalled it, the more it embarrassed her. How could she have allowed him such intimacy? How could she, knowing how he felt about her, knowing it was only a ploy to separate her from Joe, to play on her emotions?
His maneuvering was all so clear. She realized that he had never believed her assertion that she and Joe were only friends, that she wasn’t leading him on. Marc was out to separate the two of them.
It was so obvious now, she was shocked that she hadn’t realized it sooner. If only she had. If only she’d resisted him. But it had been so sweet, so unbearably sweet holding him, being loved by him, kissed by him, wanted by him. She knew she’d never forget it, no matter how long she lived. But now she had to get away before he pressed his advantage. And she couldn’t let him close again.
He and Lana went out that evening, but later they rejoined the others for the Fourth of July Eve celebration at the club, which included fireworks. She noticed that the Smiths kept to themselves, and Dave Smith seemed to watch her curiously. That disturbed her, and she began to suspect that Joe might have said something to him about what she had overheard.
Gaby felt cold chills down her spine, but she tried to laugh it off and went around with Joe, meeting people, enjoying the music of the live band and the spirit of camaraderie. Everybody seemed to be having a wonderful time, and Gaby was looking forward to the fireworks. She got into the spirit of the evening and danced until she thought she would collapse. She was having the time of her life when Marc came up and claimed her without a word as the band played a sultry, bluesy tune.
“You’ve been avoiding me since this morning,” he said quietly, his eyes dark and steady on her face as he pulled her up against him. He was wearing a white dinner jacket with a red boutonniere and dark slacks, and he looked so handsome that she trembled with pleasure.
“Have I?” she hedged. She touched the boutonniere. “You look very handsome.”
“You look very lovely,” he replied. His hand tightened on hers, his fingers locking with her own as they circled the floor. “Joe’s glaring at me,” he said with a chuckle, glancing over her head. “Maybe he senses something, hmm?”
“There’s nothing to sense.” She smelled his spicy cologne and remembered so many times going to bed with the scent still lingering on her skin after he’d kissed her goodbye. She closed her eyes and let herself drift. “He doesn’t have any reason to be jealous of me. He’s just my friend.”
“That isn’t how he tells it,” he said softly. “He’s crazy about you.”
“You’re imagining things.”
“Am I? He’s as much as told me to keep my hands off you.”
She looked up. “This morning. He didn’t see...?”
“What an expression,” he whispered, smiling. “No. No one saw us. Imagine how it would have shocked them? Me, kneeling over you like that...”
* * *
HER FACE BURNED. She buried her hot cheek against his shoulder and felt his big arm pull her so close that she could feel the powerful muscles of his thighs. S
he moved away a little, and he just brought her back again.
“Stay where you were,” he ordered. “I like feeling your legs against mine. What’s so shocking? You know I want you, so why hide from the evidence?”
“Leave me alone,” she moaned.
“No can do, honey,” he replied. His breathing was audible. Deep and unsteady. He turned quickly so that she was intimately close to him for a blazing second. “You can’t leave me alone, either.”
“I’m going home tomorrow,” she said, choking.
“Running?” he said, taunting her. His fingers moved against hers, slow and caressing. “Will it help? Won’t it be worse, not seeing me every day?”
“Damn you, Marc,” she whispered tearfully.
“Why don’t you give up this farce with Joe?” he asked, his voice low and coaxing. “You and I would be so good together, Gaby. Stop seeing my brother and I’ll teach you things you never dreamed. I’ll let you sleep with me every night until we go blind making love to each other.”
She felt her blood go cold. So that was his game. That was why he’d gone headlong toward her this morning. He was still playing the overprotective big brother. He really believed that she was leading Joe on in some way, that she was going to hurt his brother. And he was ready to sacrifice himself to save Joe. He was willing to give her what he imagined she was angling for—his exclusive attention. Dear, self-sacrificing man, he was going to make her a gift of his body! What devotion!
She pulled away a little, her green eyes sparkling with temper and black amusement. “Now that’s what I call an interesting proposition. And I do mean proposition. You’ll trade me your body for Joe’s freedom.” She smiled at the blank look on his face. “Why don’t you try offering me money, Marc? For five thousand dollars maybe I’d make the same deal you did. I’d rather have the money than your body. I’m sure you understand, being a veteran of a similar offer yourself?”