by Sandra Brown
She aimed a straight finger down at the sheets of paper on the table. "I'm not the kidnapped girl, any more than you're the pirate. She's a figment of my imagination. She's nobody. She's make-believe."
He disputed her words with a slow, negative shake of his head. "She is you. She's what you secretly think, how you feel about sexuality, how you feel about love, what you want in bed but would never ask for. Just like the moon, we all have a dark side, a part of us that the world doesn't see. It's in our makeup and is nothing to be ashamed of."
He had backed her into the counter. She shook her head adamantly, fearfully. "I'm not like that."
"Not on the outside. On the outside, you're every inch a lady. Don't you realize that's what makes you so attractive, so damned fascinating?" His tone became softer, more cajoling. "Elizabeth, why do you think I wanted to sleep with you last night?"
His words about falling in love with a woman he liked waking up with came back to cruelly mock her now. She wouldn't believe him. She wouldn't be made a fool of again.
"So you could keep on using me until I finally caught on."
His brows drew together in an impatient frown. He braced his hands on either side of her hips and leaned over her, forcing her head back. "You're not angry because I read what you wrote. You wrote it to be read. You're upset because I'm not a stranger. You're not anonymous. Now I know your secret. Now I know that under your cool, prim exterior, you burn hot."
The words popped and hissed like drops of water on a hot skillet. Elizabeth's hand cracked across his cheek.
Neither could believe she'd slapped him. His eyes narrowed dangerously as he gradually pushed himself away from her and straightened up. She had spanked her children only on the rarest occasions, then cried harder than they afterward. The aggressive child in the family had been Lilah, never her older sister, who always gave in to avoid any chance of a physical altercation. But now she had slapped a man who easily outweighed her by seventy-five pounds and who towered over her.
The shock over striking him didn't alleviate her rage, however. She would never forgive him for the despicable way he'd manipulated her into making love with him. It made her sick to think that everything he'd said and done to her had come, not from his heart, but from a licentious curiosity.
She said nothing to detain him when he turned and angrily strode toward the door, nearly ripping it from its hinges when he opened it. What have you got to be so angry about? she wanted to shout at him. He'd gotten better than he deserved!
But she said nothing. Her voice box wouldn't function. It was too congested with emotion. She sank into the nearest chair, laid her head on the kitchen table, and submitted to the luxury of heart-rending sobs.
* * *
Things didn't improve with time.
For the next several days, her mood was funeral. She was so short-tempered with her children that they counterattacked by behaving their worst. One afternoon she caught them playing on Thad's hammock with the puppies, and yelled for them to come in right that minute. They set up a howl, asking her why they had to come in. She could provide no plausible answer. They sulked for the rest of the evening. When Megan told her she wished they lived with somebody fun like Thad, Elizabeth banished her to her room.
Lilah called to ask her about her date with Adam Cavanaugh. Elizabeth was barely civil, unfairly blaming her sister for all her recent misfortunes.
"Gee," Lilah had said after several attempts to draw Elizabeth out, "you're a barrel of laughs. I'll call back when you're acting human."
Her foul disposition had successfully alienated her from everyone in her life. For a while that was fine. She didn't feel like talking to anybody. She nursed her misery like a witch did her brew, adding particles of resentment to it daily, stirring it, watching it simmer.
But gradually she disliked her solitude even more than she did other peoples' company. She was even glad to see Adam Cavanaugh when he came breezing through the door of her shop late one morning.
After calling her name twice, he laughed at her startled expression. "I always seem to catch you lost in thought. Where do you go when you leave the rest of us behind?"
She tried to recover quickly. She hadn't seen him since he'd walked her to her door and given her a discreet kiss on the forehead. He didn't take advantage of women the way some men did. And Thad had accused Adam of being a playboy!
"Daydreaming is a bad habit I picked up in childhood," she told him. "I'm a professional wool-gatherer. My sister torments me about it."
At the mention of her sister, he frowned. "How is that disrespectful sister of yours?"
"Disrespectful," Elizabeth replied, thinking that it was time for her to mend her fences with Lilah. It wasn't Lilah's fault that Thad Randolph had turned out to be a rat.
"Lunch?" Adam asked, snapping her out of her thoughts.
"Lunch? Uh, no, thank you, Adam. I don't have anyone to mind the shop if I go out. I usually brown-bag it here."
"Close for an hour. Please. I've been giving our evening together a lot of thought." His voice took on a mysterious pitch and his brown eyes danced with secrecy. "There's something very important I want to discuss with you."
Half an hour later, Elizabeth was picking at a salad she had built from the Garden Room's noon buffet. Adam and she were sitting at a corner table where two glass walls intersected to provide a great view of the city's skyline.
"Well?"
"I don't know, Adam. You've taken me completely off guard."
"You can't be too surprised by my proposal."
"But I am." She lifted troubled china-blue eyes to his inquiring ones. "I've never considered opening another Fantasy. This one takes so much time and energy."
"I can appreciate that," he said, after taking a sip of his iced water. "I took your situation into consideration. I realize that being a widow with two children isn't exactly conducive to owning and operating businesses in several cities at the same time. But I'm confident you can handle it."
Though the idea of opening several more Fantasy shops had come as a complete surprise, she was flattered. In spite of her myriad reservations, the idea had piqued an ambitious streak she hadn't known she had.
Leaning forward in his chair, Adam stressed his point. "Fantasy is the biggest money-maker, percentage-wise, of any of our lessees. That impresses me. You impress me. I can't find a single fault with you. Other than a little daydreaming," he teased. "You've tapped into a unique market. You buy intuitively. People will pay a quality price for a quality product. And the demographics show that the people who stay at my hotels are accustomed to doing everything first class."
"But I—"
He held up both hands to forestall her. "I'm saving a space for you in the lobby of the new Hotel Cavanaugh Chicago. Soon, I want to install your shops in other cities."
He went on to outline the feasibility of the proposal until Elizabeth developed a headache and begged him to stop and give her time to think.
"I deliberate for hours over whether to have tacos or pork chops for dinner," she told him, laughing. "I hope you don't expect an answer today."
"Of course not. Tomorrow will be soon enough."
Her face went blank with shock, but relaxed when she saw that he was joking. "No, I don't expect an immediate answer. Time's on my side. The longer you think about it, the better you're going to like the idea," he said confidently.
At the door of Fantasy, he told her, "I'll send down a typewritten proposal. Look it over. Study the figures. I'll call for your answer in a week or so. In the meantime, don't hesitate to call me if you have any questions." He flipped a business card from his suit coat pocket. "The number on here is a direct, private line. Use it."
As usual, Adam left her feeling out of breath and drained of energy. She envied him his self-confidence and the purpose with which he moved through life. He seemed to know exactly what he wanted and didn't let anything stand in his way. She wished she could be that decisive. Did she want to remain a sma
ll-scale operation or expand?
Lord, what did she, a widow with two children and a broken heart, know about big business?
A broken heart?
Her thoughts came to a standstill. Like most times when someone stumbles over something, he goes back to see what had tripped him up. A broken heart. Yep, there they were. Those three words had gotten in the path of her thoughts and impeded them.
Her heart was broken. She was in love with Thad Randolph. He was in lust with her, just like all those other women he'd bedded.
How could she possibly think about expanding her business or what to cook for dinner or anything else when she couldn't sort out her feelings for him? There should be no sorting to do. The categories of her feelings should be black and white instead of this infernal gray. She couldn't even pinpoint the moment her anger had turned to anguish, her fury to despair.
She took an aspirin for her pounding headache.
* * *
Her mood was slightly lifted when she returned home to discover Lilah's car parked in her driveway. She entered her house and found her sister scooping ice cream into bowls for Matt and Megan.
"Mrs. Alder left and Aunt Lilah said we could have ice cream," Matt reported importantly. He was also sitting on his knees in his chair. Another no-no.
"Before dinner?" Elizabeth asked, vexed.
"You know, I always wondered why Mom made that such a cardinal rule," Lilah said, wagging the ice-cream scoop at her sister. "What difference does it make if you eat your dessert before or after the meal?"
"You're hopeless." Elizabeth moved toward her sister, who was licking ice cream off the scoop, a nasty habit she'd tried to break her children of.
"Does that vague smile mean that I'm forgiven for whatever sin I committed?"
Elizabeth embraced her. She'd never been able to stay mad at Lilah for long. "You're forgiven."
"Thank God! I'd already invited the kids out to dinner. It would have been an interminably long one if you weren't speaking to me. What'd I do, anyway?"
"You didn't do anything. What prompted this invitation to dinner?"
"That."
Lilah nodded down at an envelope which Elizabeth hadn't yet noticed. She recognized the logo on the letterhead. "That's ... that's... They didn't!"
"They did. Enclosed in that envelope, which I took the liberty of opening, is a letter of acceptance for two of your stories to be published in their book and a check for five hundred dollars. Is that wonderful or what?"
"That's wonderful!" Elizabeth cried. "Now the kids can have new coats and boots and we won't have to eat tuna all winter. Is there any ice cream left for me?"
"Now I know I'm forgiven," Lilah said, and laughed.
When the children finished their ice cream, they were sent upstairs to change their clothes. "We'll have a 'grownups only' celebration tonight after the kids go to bed," Lilah said. "There's a bottle of champagne chilling in the fridge."
"Sounds great."
Lilah looked at her sister closely. According to Elizabeth's expression, nothing was "great." "Are you going to tell me about it, or do I have to wait until we go to summer camp? That's when you imparted the big secret that you'd started your period."
"Tell you about what?"
"Whatever it is that took the gilt off getting published. Whatever it is that has your chin dragging. Whatever it is that has your eyes rimmed with dark circles."
"I didn't know I looked that bad."
"Like Count Dracula's mother after the blood bank ran dry. What's the matter with you? This is supposed to be a celebration."
Elizabeth told Lilah about her lunch with Adam Cavanaugh and his notion to have a Fantasy in the lobby of each of his hotels.
"That sounds terrific, Lizzie! What's the problem? Other than the fact that you'd have to deal with him."
"The problems are too many to list, Lilah. I can't pack a suitcase and go city-hopping at the drop of a hat. I've got too many responsibilities here."
"Your kids would probably be better off if you left them now and then."
"And what about the money? I don't know anything about high finance. Do you realize the investment I'd have to make?"
"You said Cavanaugh offered to make you a business loan. Don't think of the investment, think of the profits, "Lilah said, her eyes twinkling. "I'm surprised you're not grabbing this opportunity with both hands."
Elizabeth rubbed her forehead. The aspirin hadn't helped much. "I don't know, Lilah."
Lilah took Elizabeth's hand and lowered it to the table. "Does your indecision have anything to do with a certain neighbor of yours?"
Elizabeth's eyes swung up to her sister's. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Lizzie," Lilah said, her tone softly reproachful, "the kids told me about Matt's accident. The fruit bowl. The 'papers of Mom's that flew everywhere.'"
"Oh."
"They also said you got 'real mad' that Thad had read them." Lilah softened her voice even more. "Now even I have enough imagination to figure out what was on those pages that he read. One of your fantasies, right?"
"Right," Elizabeth said dismally.
"And you were embarrassed."
"Mortified."
"So you're avoiding him."
"Like the plague. I can't face him, Lilah."
"Just because he read one of your fantasies? That's ridiculous." Lilah saw the guilt spread over her sister's face like indelible ink. Elizabeth never could hide her feelings. "Uh-oh, not just because he read one. He read one and applied it to real life. Is that it?"
"Well, sort of," Elizabeth confessed.
"Lucky you."
Elizabeth was flabbergasted. "Lucky? Lilah, I was humiliated."
Lilah's eyes rounded and she whispered, "He's into bondage?"
"Oh, for crying out loud. No! He's not into— Can't you understand? He acted out my fantasy because he thought that's what I wanted."
"I'm dying to know all the salacious details, of course, but I realize you wouldn't tell me in a million years, even if we went back to summer camp. All I can say is that if I ever fall in love – and yes, I think you're in love with him – I'll buy all the sex manuals that are on the market.
"I'll underline all the good parts and earmark the illustrations that appeal to me and pass them to this fictitious guy and say, 'Hey, Charlie, I'm too shy to discuss with you my most secret desires, but I'd welcome you doing to me anything on these marked pages.' If Thad put to good use his knowledge of your heart and mind and libido, I would say he's worth his weight in gold. And if this is any consolation, I've never seen a guy more smitten."
Elizabeth looked up, begging to be convinced. "How do you know?"
"Easy. He stank to high heaven with jealousy of Cavanaugh. It was obvious to me and I don't even know the guy. Look," she said, standing up, "I'm gonna run upstairs and check on the kids. You sit here and think about what you really want to do with the rest of your life. Cavanaugh's proposal sounds like a dream come true, a real fantasy. On the other hand, Mr. Randolph is pretty fantastic himself. And he's closer to home."
Elizabeth sat alone at her kitchen table and asked herself what she wanted. If she could have her choice of anything at that very minute, what would it be?
The answer was unqualified. She wanted Thad. She'd been more embarrassed than angry to discover he'd read her fantasy. She could admit that now. And she really hadn't suspected him of combing through her garbage can looking for discarded pages of manuscript. He was too straightforward to do something like that. Sure, he'd read that one fantasy on the sly, but as he'd pointed out, it was easy for him to do. After spotting several key words, no one could have resisted the temptation.
Yes, he had turned his knowledge to his advantage, but was that so bad? Lilah didn't think so. She thought he was a treasure for having put it to good use.
Come to think of it, how many men would care enough about a woman to cater to her fantasies? Men that sensitive were rare, while those who held a degr
ee in slam-bam-thank-you-ma'am were legion. He'd held back, patiently waiting for her to climax before letting himself. And hadn't he actually enjoyed the wait? She should have thanked him for being such a considerate lover. Instead she had slapped his face.
On her way upstairs, she met Lilah and the children trooping down. "We're ready, but you're headed in the wrong direction."
Breathlessly Elizabeth said, "Lilah, would you mind too terribly much if I skipped dinner with you tonight?"