And then, as she had hurried out of the back door, an anxious Cathy had delayed her to give her a letter from Fred. It had arrived the day before and Cathy had accidentally taken it upstairs, tucked inside an advertising circular. Thanking her hurriedly, Jade had jammed the unread letter into her jeans pocket and dashed away . She was quite late now, and Zan would surely be angry. Well, serve him right for deserting her yesterday!
But Zan didn't answer her knock at the door, and Jade waited, frowning. Surely he was up by now? Perhaps out back? Unlocking the door, she walked in. Silence . . . She stepped lightly across the oak floor, heading for the patio, but glanced down into the sunken living room. Zan lay sprawled out on the sofa below her, fast asleep.
Sucking in her breath in quiet appreciation, Jade stood mesmerised. He was so beautiful lying there, bare but for a pair of khaki shorts pulled low around his lean waist. Only the bulky cast marred the grace of that big, muscular body. His golden head was turned away from her into his good arm, the cord in the tanned column of his neck standing out in bold relief. What would it be like to touch him, to follow that line down into the curly gold at the base of his throat, to slide her hands across the hard muscles of his wide chest?
'Jade?' Zan murmured. Frowning, he swung his head slowly towards her, then stopped, his thick lashes brushing his cheeks. 'That you, sweet?'
Jade whirled completely around to inspect the bare wall, her face flaming. Thank God he hadn't opened his eyes, just then! 'Mm-hmm,' she answered.
'What. . . time is it?' he muttered indistinctly.
Jade turned around again, her embarrassment forgotten. 'Zan, are you okay?' She bounded down into the pit.
At closer glance, there were deep shadows under the gold lashes, and stubble roughened his lean jaw. She sank down on the edge of the sofa beside him. 'Are you all right?' Brushing his silky hair back, she laid a hand on his forehead.
'Mmm. Fine now.' He nestled against her hand, smiling drowsily. 'Just don't rock the sofa.'
He didn't seem to have a fever. She stared down at him, scowling anxiously. 'Let's see your eyes, Zan,' she ordered.
The thick lashes lifted slowly, and she felt him frown beneath her hand. 'Ouch,' he murmured, squinting up at her with bloodshot eyes.
Jade inhaled sharply. 'You—are—hung over, Alexander Wykoff!' she diagnosed indignantly.
'Who's that?' he queried serenely, shutting his eyes again, but he grabbed for her hand as she removed it. 'Wait! Where are you going?'
'I'm going to get you some aspirin and coffee, unless you prefer to sleep it off?'
'No. Sounds good . . . hurry back.' He rolled over on his side and cuddled into a cushion.
Jade scowled as she brewed the coffee. Zan was amusing, hung over, but the situation was not. She'd known him nearly two months now, and had never seen him drunk, nor even close to it before. He'd taken more than a six pack of beer yesterday to get in this shape. She chewed her lip. He had to snap out of this!
Setting the coffee tray on an end table, Jade sat down beside Zan. His eyes fluttered open again.
'Aspirin time,' she declared firmly. 'Sit up, Zan.'
With a soft groan he rolled over on to his good elbow and half sat, blinking owlishly.
Jade stared at him, half amused, half exasperated. Propped on his left arm like that, he couldn't hold a glass. Oh, well. Who had crippled him in the first place? 'Open up,' she said briskly.
Balancing the aspirin carefully on his dry, pink tongue, Jade picked up the water glass and eyed him doubtfully. How best to do this? Leaning against his chest, she slid her left hand behind his neck, up into his warm, thick hair to support his head. She tried not to shiver as his warmth spread in slow, electric waves across her body. Carefully, her face sternly impersonal, she put the glass to his lips. Zan swallowed obediently, his eyes on her face as he drank.
'Enough?' she asked.
His lips quivered, then straightened again. 'No,' he said. 'More.' He drank the whole glass slowly, watching her the while with hungry, laughing eyes. Feeling her face colour, Jade didn't know whether to scowl or to laugh at his satisfaction.
Finally she set the empty glass aside. Head tilted back against her hand, Zan waited, his eyes on her lips. It would be so easy to just dip her head, brush that long, mobile mouth with her own . . . 'Coffee?' she asked abruptly.
He shook his head slowly, his eyes telling her what he wanted.
'Well, I'm having some.' She pulled her hand gently from behind his neck and turned away. Zan sighed and lay back to stare up at the ceiling.
Jade poured a cup and sat down beside him, the top of his head nearly brushing her thigh. It would be so easy to reach out and stroke his furry chest ... 'So what happened?' she asked.
Zan smiled, his eyes closing again. 'Not much, really . . . The sail did no good ... so went over to Jerry's for a drink, got him talkin' ... More he drinks, more outrageous the stories get, Jade . . .' He stopped and yawned hugely. 'But he won't drink 'less I keep him company . . . 'ol devil's got a hollow leg you wouldn't believe . . .' His brows knotted. 'Not even sure I can remember the best of them now. You have to come and take notes, next time.'
Zan leaned forward suddenly, heaved himself up on his elbow, then slid backwards. His heavy, warm head dropped into her lap. He smiled up at her lazily. 'Long as you're playing nurse, you might as well do it properly,' he explained kindly, shutting his eyes again.
Jade took a deep breath and a good swallow of coffee. Damn the man. 'So was that all?' she asked casually, ignoring the invasion.
'No.' Zan frowned. He was silent so long she wondered if he'd gone to sleep on her. 'I got home after midnight . . . went to sleep. I don't know when the foghorns started . . . but before long, all I could hear was those damn horns fillin' the sky. I kept dreamin' it was the last trump sounding, thinking of all the things I'd meant to do and hadn't had the time for . . . There's so little time left and it's going so fast and I'm getting nowhere . . .' His head turned restlessly on her leg.
'You mean the book?' she asked softly.
'No, I don't, nimwit, but that's another problem. So I'd roll over, go back tor sleep, and hear the horns again—waaant! waant!' He took a deep breath. 'Finally, I got up, got dressed, and walked across to Ocean Drive, watched the fog roll down the channel. I walked back by your house, thought of dragging you out for some typing, but I didn't figure you'd thank me.'
'I'd have come,' she protested.
He smiled, and reaching back, found her knee and held on to it. 'Would you have, sweet?' he asked softly. 'Kicking and screaming, I 'spose you would have,' he decided. 'Anyway, I came home alone, and read the manuscript all the way through, and it rots.'
Jade shook her head. 'No, it doesn't!'
'Yes, it does,' he said evenly. 'At that point I'd have gone out and howled along with the foghorns, but I figured Jerry would call the cops, or the dogcatcher, or both.'
'Poor Zan, you had a tough night,' she murmured soothingly, wishing she could stroke his hair.
He laughed ironically. 'And then the phone rang.'
'Oh?' She set her empty cup down carefully, watching his face.
'It was Mona, calling from London.'
'At that hour?'
His lips twitched. 'It was morning there. But Mona's always had a fine disregard for time zones, anyway.' He shook his head again. 'She made me open a bottle of champagne before she'd talk to me.'
'Champagne?'
'Mmm-hmm.' Zan smiled crookedly. 'She had a bottle there, too. She wanted me to help her toast her new love, be the first one to know about her up-coming marriage.' His hand squeezed her knee suddenly, as if a spasm of pain tightened it, but he grinned. 'I can't decide if I actually was the first to know, or the second. He sounded so dazed, I really think she might have forgotten to inform him beforehand.'
'You talked to him?' Jade gasped. She could feel the angry blood heating her face. How could the woman have done that to Zan?
'Oh, yes,' Zan said dryly
. 'She had him right there in bed with her. An architect. Sounded very nice. Pleased as punch, but somewhat dazed.' He sighed and was silent a long time, his hand absently caressing her kneecap. 'I hope he's all right. The girl has a talent for loving rascals . . . witness me . . .' His lips curled and then straightened again, and he took a slow breath. 'So, after the happy couple rang off, there I sat with the foghorns and half a bottle of champagne going flat. Finally I figured, what the hell, I'd toast my own future . . .dim as it sometimes seems lately. Next thing I knew, here you were . . .' He sighed slowly as his hand relaxed on her knee, and he lay there, thinking or dreaming, she couldn't tell which.
Jade studied his face. Was he sad? The thick golden lashes shut her out, gave away no secrets, but he had to be. However easy-going his relationship with Mona might have been, there was love there, even if Zan didn't call it that. She saw it shine every time he mentioned the woman. And a husband would shut him out as another lover might not.
Zan's head turned restlessly on her thigh and his hand tightened again, sending slow waves of pleasure washing up her leg. Her whole lap glowed with the weight of him. His lashes fluttered open and he smiled up at her, stopping her heart for a beat. 'Go upstairs and go to bed, sleepyhead,' she told him softly. 'We can work tomorrow.'
His smile deepened. 'Will you come keep me company if I do?' he asked drowsily, his fingers exploring the shape of her kneecap.
That would be one way to cheer him up, wouldn't it? Jade thought wryly. She smiled and shook her head.
Zan sighed and shrugged his eyebrows. 'How 'bout a nice cold shower, then?' he coaxed. 'It's a big tub.'
'Go to sleep,' she told him firmly, trying to frown.
Sighing again, he sat up abruptly and swung his long legs to the floor. He leaned over his knees for a moment, suddenly looking ill. 'Nope,' he said. 'It's work time. I'll have a quick shower and then let's get going.'
'Zan—' she protested.
Standing, he poured himself a cup of coffee and looked down at her. 'Jade, we're so far behind now, it isn't funny any more.'
'So what if you're late?' she asked defiantly. He did look ill.
Scowling, he shook the hair out of his eyes and then stopped abruptly, as if the movement hurt. 'Jade, I've taken—and spent—a nice advance . . . We planned this book to hit market just before the America's Cup campaign starts next spring.' He trudged off towards the stairs, carrying his coffee. 'I'm scheduled to start another book in the Bahamas in October.'
Jade bit her lip. Zan in the Bahamas. For the first time, the reality of his leaving Newport went home— went home like an ice-pick. She took a deep, slow breath. 'Breakfast?' she called up after him. Remarkable how steady her voice sounded.
'Later.'
Later . . . she wandered aimlessly around the living room, picked up one of his old sailing books. Sooner or later he'd be gone . . . He'd tossed a sweater on to the hearth; she collected that absently, rubbing it across her face, breathing in the clean, sunny smell of him. Here it was—what—almost August? Two months from now Zan would be in the Bahamas. And she'd be here, watching the leaves turn red and then fall, teaching school, probably married . . . She found two more books on an end table, and his shirt on a dining room chair and started upstairs. What a fool she'd been . . .
She could hear the shower going as she dumped Zan's debris on his bed, and wandered into the guest room. Absently, she picked up a stack of her paintings and began to lay them out across the tied, her eyes unseeing. She focussed as she came to the one she had done of Zan two days ago. He had sat on the wall beneath her balcony, thinking, for nearly two hours, giving her all the time she needed ...
Hands thrust deep in her pockets, she brooded down at it. It was good—very good. She'd caught his faraway, almost fey look as he stared out at the water . . . And what would she do with this? She couldn't possibly sell it, Wouldn't possibly be able to look at it once he was gone . . . She turned away, blinking rapidly, balling her fingers into fists.
A paper crackled against her hand and she fished it out automatically. Fred's letter. Turning towards the harbour, she tore it open absently and then read it, but the words didn't register. She read it again, frowning . . . October. Fred wanted to marry in October now. Columbus Day weekend. The rush of starting school would be behind them, they'd have a long weekend, could honeymoon on Nantucket if she liked ... In October, Zan would be in the Bahamas.
Jade crumpled the letter into a blue wad as she stared out at the harbour. It was a painting by Monet, the bright colours smearing and blurring. Fool ... to think that she could pick up the pieces, go on as before, after Zan. Selfish fool, to expect Fred to help her. It wasn't fair; not fair to Fred, not fair to herself. She would have to tell Fred—call it off. A man deserved more than half a heart—was that what her mother had finally realised? Some day she would have to ask her . . . The colours were dripping off the canvas before her, blues and whites and touches of brighter colours swimming and running together. Jade shut her eyes and felt the tears trickle down her cheeks. It wasn't fair! Fred loved her, she loved Zan, and who did Zan love? Nobody? Everybody? Mona? Just himself?
'Jade?' From the doorway, his low voice cut through her misery and she jumped violently.
'Hmm?' she managed, squaring her shoulders. He wouldn't come into this room without her permission. It was an unspoken agreement they had. She stared out at the water, willing him to go away.
'Help me on with this shirt, will you, sweet?' he asked. The doorframe creaked as he leaned against it.
Jade swallowed carefully. 'In a minute, Zan,' she muttered. Why, oh, why wouldn't the tears stop? She couldn't even lift a hand to wipe them away with him watching.
'Jade?' His voice had sharpened. 'What's the matter?'
'Nothing!' She got it out through clenched teeth. Any second now her shoulders would start shaking; she could feel the heaving in her chest.
'Then turn around and look at me,' Zan demanded.
She shook her head tightly, then stiffened as she heard his footsteps. 'Zan, get out of here!' she stormed helplessly. 'This is my room!'
'You are—you're crying, aren't you, Jade?' His hand closed on her arm, pulling her gently around.
'No!' She jerked away, whirling around again, but his cast hooked around her waist and hauled her back against him, and his other arm completed the circle. She squinched her eyes and leaned back, shuddering, feeling the dampness and the heat of his bare chest seep through her shirt back. The sweetness of his touch made the tears fall faster.
'Hey . . . hey . . . hey, don't cry, sweet, why are you—' Zan's lips brushed the side of her cheek, her neck, her hair, then his head stopped suddenly. 'So that's it,' he said dully.
Jade opened tear-fringed eyes. Dazzled by the damp, clean smell of him and the heat of his arms, she took a second to realise what he was looking at. In front of them, her upflung hand clutched the forgotten letter.
Zan's arm squeezed her painfully. 'Did you just open that?' he asked against her ear, his voice husky.
Jade nodded, shut her eyes and took a deep, sniffling breath, just wishing she could stand like this for ever. She nodded again.
'Damn, damn, damn then!' he muttered against her hair as his arms crushed her ribs, 'do you miss him that much?'
A peal of hysterical laughter exploded in her chest, came out as a tearing sob, followed by another, and another. His conclusion was so far off the mark it was hilarious; why was she crying so?
'Jade . . . Jade . . oh, hell, girl!' Zan turned her around and pulled her against his chest and she burrowed against him, pressing her face into the damp curling hair, the hard and comforting warmth of him. He stroked her hair and rocked her, muttering soothing, meaningless curses into her ear, and gradually the sobs slowed . . . slowed . . . and, finally, stopped . . .
Zan's heartbeat against her forehead was the homiest, most comforting sound she had ever heard. Hypnotised, she concentrated on that, felt her breath beginning to come in time with his
own deep rhythm.
'Jade, look at me,' he whispered against her hair.
She stiffened. If she looked at him now, he would know.
'Jade?'
The doorbell rang, and Zan's head came up. 'Oh, lord,' he said reverently, his arms tightening around her.
It rang again—two longs and a short. Zan heaved a deep sigh against her and then stepped back, his hand on her shoulder. She ducked her head and stood there, longing for his arms again, swaying slightly.
'Jade,' he said urgently, 'I'm afraid we've got company.' Two longs and a short, the signal came again. He shook her gently. 'Can you pull yourself together, Red?' he coaxed. 'Go and wash your face? Hmm?'
She nodded at the floor. Company?
'Okay, then,' he said doubtfully. His hand squeezed her shoulder and dropped away. 'Come on down when you're ready.' The doorbell rang again and he padded out of the room, his footsteps heavier and clumsier than they usually sounded.
Who could this be? Jade wondered as she washed her face. Zan had recognised the signal. She couldn't think of anything she'd rather do less than meet some old friend of his right now. She combed her hair out, and then, to kill more time, changed her blouse. Perhaps his visitor would leave if she stalled long enough.
In the mirror, she looked about eighteen, with her freshly-washed face, her jeans and a check shirt. And her eyes were as pink as Zan's now. Well, perhaps it would be assumed that, like Zan, she'd been drinking, rather than crying . . . What a fool she'd made of herself! She hadn't howled like that in years. Reluctantly, she stepped out of the bathroom. She would think about that later.
In the hallway, voices floated up from the pit below. Jade paused, not consciously eavesdropping, but scouting out the approaching encounter.
'No, Zan, I don't think I'll buy that,' a woman's voice purred. 'If you said you'd broken it falling into someone's bed, I'd believe you. But falling out of bed?' She laughed throatily, and Jade cocked her head. Where had she heard a laugh like that before?
The Darling Jade Page 14