by Joan Hohl
Was she obsessed with the need to possess and be possessed by her friend, her hero, her one-time lover? Flopping onto her side, Tina raised her hand to wipe impatiently at the tears gathering in her eyes. Now was not the time for tears; now was the time for some heavy thinking,
When had her mental waters become so muddy? Sighing tiredly, Tina rolled to her other side. On leaving New York, her goal had been clear-cut, her thinking decisive. Confident in her determination, she’d never really doubted her ability to get what she needed.
Of course, with perfect hindsight, Tina now saw the two glaring errors in her calculations. In the first place, she had conveniently forgotten how adamant and stubborn Dirk could be. And then, compounding her foolishness, she had actually convinced herself that the emotion that ran rampant inside whenever she thought of him was hate.
Grimacing with astonishment at her own self-delusion, Tina slowly shook her head. If she lived for a thousand years, she could not hate Dirk. She could resent him, and she did, sometimes violently. But hate?
A sound, half sob, half laugh, shattered the early-morning stillness of the room. Surely even a moderately intelligent person could define the difference between resentment and hate. Unless, of course, Tina admitted with ruthless honesty, that person wanted to avoid the unvarnished truth that lay beneath the resentment.
And yes, that truth was a love so enduring that even Dirk’s coldness failed to freeze it. Did that make what she felt obsessive?
Yes.
Scrambling off the bed, Tina prowled around the dark room like a caged animal; the bars caging her were all mental.
A perfectly normal urge to run gripping her, Tina dropped to her knees beside the bed, groping for the suitcase she’d stowed there on her arrival. Had it really only been a few days? she marveled, sweeping her arm along the carpet. Lord, it seemed like weeks since she’d left her apartment.
Common sense gained control as Tina’s fingers brushed the supple leather case. What would running accomplish? Her turmoil was inside, it was emotional, and there was no way to run from it. No, she decided, shaking her head as she got to her feet; running was out. In a sense, hadn’t she been running for the last five years? Could she face the idea of running in place for the rest of her life?
No! The cry came from deep within. She knew she had to stay and follow the path connecting her life to Dirk’s to its natural conclusion.
Sliding onto the bed, Tina steeled her resolve. With luck, and a lot of hard work, maybe, just maybe, she and Dirk could make a life together ... if they could reconcile their past with the present.
Tina hugged that vaguely hopeful thought to her heart as she drifted into an uneasy sleep.
* * * *
Behind another closed door across the hall, Dirk lay awake and thoughtful. Had he convinced her? he wondered. Had he managed to convince himself?
Giving up on the hope of sleep, Dirk rose, raking a hand through his hair as he walked to the window to gaze sightlessly at the deserted street below.
Damn, he groaned silently. How had something that had begun so simply become so complicated?
Looking back with his mind’s eye, Dirk could see himself, young, lonely, eagerly following George Holden into the house to meet his family for the first time.
Smiling softly into the night, Dirk relived the welcoming warmth Tina’s mother had given him, and the glow of love that had appeared to surround the three members of the Holden family. Unstintingly, they had drawn the impressionable youth he had been into that circle of love. And he, as a man, had betrayed George Holden’s trust.
Dirk’s smile gave way to the bitterness that twisted his lips. And now, with cool deliberation, he was about to betray his friend a second time.
His movement violent, Dirk spun around to stalk the length of his room.
George, forgive me, Dirk pleaded mutely, but I must take your most precious possession and make her mine.
Dirk was still pacing his room, still waging war with himself, when the first streaks of dawn lit the horizon. Stepping out of his boxers, he shrugged into a terry robe and strode to the bathroom. His course was set and there was no going back: Tina would be his.
The plan sprang into Dirk’s mind, full blown, as he stood under the stingingly cold shower spray. A satisfied smile tugged at his lips as he mulled the idea over while drying his body with a large white towel.
Tina was vacillating, and Dirk knew it. His own mind set on the necessity of a legal union between them, he’d worried over the possibility of Tina’s balking, perhaps even running before he could marry her.
Now Dirk’s smile expanded into a confident grin. He knew exactly how to proceed with her. And the answer was so damn simple too.
Pulling on his robe, Dirk left the bathroom, whistling softly as he strolled to his bedroom. Inside his mind a vision lingered, a vision of Tina, her features softened by memories, her eyes faraway and dreamy.
His voice low, Dirk sang the words to the ballad he’d been whistling. As he dressed in chinos and a finely knit sweater, the song’s lyrics gave way to a rumbling chuckle.
Pulling on his scuffed desert boots, Dirk swung out of his room and ran lightly down the stairs. His battle tactics clear in his mind, he took the final two steps as one and pivoted toward the back of the house. All that is now required, he thought smugly, is to put the plan into action.
Dirk was again whistling as he sauntered into the bright kitchen. The sight that met his eyes stole the whistle from his lips and the smugness from his mind.
In much the same manner as Mrs. Holden had so many years before, Beth was standing at the stove, preparing a meal. But the figure that arrested Dirk’s glance and attention was tall and slim, all graceful motion as she bustled around the table with dishes and flatware, one fiery braid bouncing merrily on her back.
The breath catching painfully in his throat, Dirk experienced an eerie sensation of déjà vu.
Completely unaware that his eyes had clouded with memory and were caressing the slender woman poised expectantly by the table, Dirk moved like a sleepwalker into the room. Having planned to steep Tina in memories throughout the week to keep her amenable to his wishes, Dirk now found himself caught in the very same web.
“Good morning, scrawny.” The husky murmur was all Dirk could get past the tightness in his throat.
* * *
Chapter 9
At her first glimpse of Dirk as he paused in the kitchen doorway, Tina felt a rush of warmth tingle through her body. At his murmured greeting, all her bones seemed to melt. Ensnared by the smoky blue of his eyes, she clutched the edge of the table to keep from sliding into a heap on the tile floor.
Within the instant required for him to cross the room to where she stood, Tina was held breathless in a time warp. She was five years old again, quivering with the expectancy of hearing her father’s robust voice introduce the golden-haired young man to her smiling mother.
“Breakfast is almost ready.” Beth’s amused voice broke through Tina’s memory warp. “And if you could coax her to eat more, Tina wouldn’t be so scrawny.”
Simultaneously, Tina and Dirk blinked themselves back to the present, then exchanged smiles of secret communication. Once again attuned to each other’s thoughts, they moved in unison to finish setting the table, their gazes tangling when their hands, briefly touching, set off sparks of awareness between them.
“Did you sleep well?” Dirk’s low tone flowed over Tina like a healing balm.
“No,” Tina admitted frankly, with a rueful smile. “Did you?”
“No,” A self-derisive smile shadowed Dirk’s lips. “Not at all, actually.” A frown drew a line across the bridge of his nose. “Did you run this morning?” Scraping a chair back from the table, he seated her before moving to the stove to help Beth.
“Yes, for a little while.” Tina smiled into the arched glance Dirk threw at her over his shoulder. “I wasn’t up to the long haul.”
“Considering the meager amount o
f fuel you put into your body, I’m surprised you can run at all!” Beth exclaimed in gentle scolding, carrying a plate of crisp bacon to the table.
Trailing in Beth’s wake with an oval serving dish heaped high with fluffy scrambled eggs in one hand and a plate of stacked toast in the other, Dirk grinned at Tina wickedly.
“Shall we confine her to her room unless she cleans her plate?” he asked Beth dryly.
“It’s an idea, but it probably wouldn’t work,” Beth responded in kind. “What Tina needs is someone to take care of her, twenty-four hours a day!”
“A keeper?” Tina exclaimed, laughing.
“Or a husband,” Dirk inserted smoothly.
Beth’s shrewd glance shifted from Dirk to Tina. “Is there a husband in the offing?” she asked bluntly.
Tina felt the heat of a flush in her cheeks, but before she could reply, Dirk stole the initiative from her.
“Yes.” Dirk equaled Beth’s bluntness. “Me.”
For long moments the room seemed to hum with tension, then Beth beamed her approval, lighting her face and lightening the atmosphere. “That’s wonderful!” she cried, reaching out to grasp their hands. “When was all this decided? And when will the wedding take place?”
“It was all decided yesterday.” Dirk supplied the answer, again beating Tina into speech. “And the ceremony will take place next Thursday, Thanksgiving Day.” His tone was as dry as Tina’s throat.
“Thanksgiving,” Beth exclaimed, “how absolutely perfect! “ In that moment, Tina was positive she could see Beth mentally shift gears. She was proved correct when Beth added enthusiastically, “We can have a small reception right here!”
Stunned, Tina and Dirk stared as Beth jumped out of her chair and bustled to a drawer in the cabinet next to the sink.
Exchanging confused glances, they tried to make sense of the housekeeper’s excited chatter.
“A reception?” Tina whispered, appalled. “Must we have a reception?”
Dirk was already shaking his head, frowning as he glanced back at Beth. “We didn’t want any fuss, Beth,” he said carefully, not wanting to hurt the older woman’s feelings. “I thought the three of us could have a meal out, after the ceremony.”
Tina felt her body relax with relief, only to tense again at the shocked expression on Beth’s face when she returned to the table, a pencil and pad in her hand.
“Eat out?” Beth’s lips pursed sourly. “The three of us?” she repeated in an outraged tone. “Dirk Tanger, you have some very good friends in this town!” The look she leveled at Dirk reminded Tina of a stern teacher ... her sixth-grade teacher, in fact. Hiding a smile brought on entirely by nervousness, Tina forced her attention back to the chastising Beth. “Not to mention your family and friends in Wilmington.”
Displaying patience Tina didn’t know he was capable of, Dirk smiled at Beth. “But you see, Beth, Tina and I prefer— he began gently, only to be interrupted by a now incensed Beth.
“And you, Tina. What about your friends? Don’t you think they’d feel slighted if you just sneak off and get married?”
“Sneak off?” Tina and Dirk responded in unison, their voices loud in the quiet kitchen. With a brief nod of his head, Dirk allotted the floor to Tina.
“Beth, we are not planning to sneak off anywhere,” Tina explained as calmly as she could. “But we both prefer a quiet, simple ceremony. I mean, really,” she went on, contriving a laugh she was a long way from feeling, “neither one of us is exactly dewy-eyed. We’ve both been married before.”
“So what!” Beth snorted, “Is it chiseled on stone somewhere that a second marriage can’t be celebrated?” As the query was obviously rhetorical, Beth didn’t wait for a response. “Good grief!” she scolded. “Every living soul is entitled to one mistake, and most have countless numbers, come to that! You’re getting married, for heaven’s sake! I’d think you’d want to share your happiness with all your relatives and friends.”
“Oh, Beth, you don’t understand,” Tina protested weakly, turning to Dirk for support. At the contemplative expression on his face, she felt a knot grow in her stomach. The knot expanded with the glittering light that flared in his eyes.
“You know, love, I’m beginning to think Beth’s right.”
Astounded, Tina just stared at him. Surely he couldn’t be serious, she thought wildly. After a brief hesitation, Dirk set her straight on that score. Oozing charm, he leaned toward the now smiling housekeeper.
“What did you have in mind, Beth?”
Beth took off like a Chinese rocket. “Well, I thought I’d prepare a buffet. You know, all the traditional Thanksgiving foods, but with slight variations because it’s also a wedding. Using the dining room as well as the living room, I’d estimate we can squeeze about forty or so people into the house.”
“Forty?” Tina’s squawk went unnoticed as Beth continued talking to a very interested Dirk.
“Of course, there’ll be no time to send out formal invitations, but I’m sure your secretary can do the inviting by phone.” She raised a narrow eyebrow at Dirk. “Can’t she?”
“Certainly,” Dirk drawled, obviously amused by Beth’s ardor.
“Dirk!” Tina might as well have saved her breath for all the notice her companions paid her.
“I’ll need a list of names from the two of you,” Beth murmured, scribbling what appeared to be a grocery list on the pad of paper she’d brought to the table. “And I’ll need it today.” She glanced up to frown at first Dirk, then Tina. “And you also have arrangements to make, don’t you? I mean, marriage license, and so forth?”
“Right.” Getting swiftly to his feet, Dirk walked around Tina’s chair, giving a gentle tug on her braid. “You heard the lady. Let’s get crackin’, kid.”
Feeling slightly punchy, Tina rose and followed him out of the room. Partial rationality returned as she stood meekly in the front hall, watching Dirk remove their jackets from the closet.
“Where are we going?” she asked, shaking her head as if to clear it of cobwebs.
“Beth was right, Tina, we do have things to do.” Stepping behind her, he held the garment as she docilely slid her arms into the sleeves. “We have to apply for the license. There’s a three-day waiting period. Remember?”
“Yes, but...” Tina came to life as he moved around her to zip up the jacket. “Hey, wait a minute!” she objected. “I have no makeup on, and I should brush out my hair.”
Already at the door and holding it open, Dirk ran an encompassing glance the length of her body, from the shiny red braid to her scrubbed face, over the sweater that outlined her breasts and down to the jeans that encased her hips and legs. When he brought his gaze back to hers, Tina imagined she could feel the heat blazing out of his eyes,
“Tina.” Dirk’s low tone was husky with sensuality. “If we don’t leave this house right now, I’m going to pick you up and carry you to my bedroom.” Arching one brow, he taunted, “I’d as soon stay here. The choice is yours.”
A soundless moan shivered in Tina’s throat. Suddenly feeling vulnerable and very tempted, she stared at him wistfully, her eyes drinking in the sheer masculine appeal of him as he leaned lazily against the door.
A quick awareness of his sharpened gaze alerted Tina to what he was about to say.
“Honey, you better make your choice,” he warned softly, “while the choice is still yours to make.”
Coming to her senses, Tina dashed past him and through the open door, tingling to the rumble of the laughter that followed her. As he joined her on the porch, Dirk’s laughter subsided to a teasing grin.
“Coward,” he murmured into her ear as he slid his arm around her waist.
Sniffing disdainfully, Tina walked sedately down the steps, automatically heading for the little BMW. Long fingers flexing into her flesh brought her to an abrupt halt.
“I think we’ll take my car.” The gritty edge on his voice caused an altogether different kind of tingle along Tina’s spine. “At least I
know mine is paid for.”
“So is this one.” Tina indicated the sports car with a wave of her hand. “And it’s not mine anyway.”
Dirk’s entire body went still; Tina’s heart began to race erratically.
“Not yours?” A deceptive silkiness increased the thumping in her chest. “May I inquire to whom it belongs?” he asked with frightening formality.
For a moment Tina could barely articulate past the thickness in her throat. Then a rush of impatient anger swept by the obstruction. Who does he think he is? she fumed, glaring at him.
“It’s Paul’s,” she said tightly. “My car was repossessed weeks ago ... thanks to you!”
“Thanks to me?” Dirk’s jaw tensed, lending an arrogance to his features that chilled Tina. “In what way, precisely? he demanded.
Shrugging out of his grip, Tina hastened to the side of the gleaming Jaguar. “You knew perfectly well in what way,” she snapped, mourning the loss of their shared camaraderie.
“Tina, stop this!” Walking to her, Dirk grasped her by her upper arms and shook her lightly. “You know why I’ve guarded your money so carefully.”
“Oh, sure.” Incensed now, Tina struggled to free herself; Dirk merely tightened his hold on her. “You were determined to keep Chuck from squandering it. Well, I’ve got a news flash for you, Mr. Banker. I’m this”—she held her thumb and forefinger apart a quarter of an inch—”far from losing everything I’ve worked so very hard for!”
“Poor management,” Dirk pronounced pedantically, sending Tina’s temper soaring.
“It was not poor management!” Tina had to pause to keep herself from screaming at him. “I could have handled it, if—” Realizing what she was about to admit, Tina caught herself up short.
“If Chuck hadn’t demanded more and more money from you.” Dirk finished for her. “Is that what you were about to say?”
All the fight suddenly drained out of Tina, leaving her feeling excessively tired. How many times had they had this same argument? she wondered bleakly. How many more times would they plow over the same barren ground?