A Woman's Choice
Page 6
"And you definitely need it!" April stated emphatically, but a relieved smile was pulling at her mouth just the same. She got a glimpse of Sam's face as he placed his drink on the bar. She believed them, but Sam didn't, if his frown was anything to go by. "Well, Catherine, again… welcome to our home. Jace has spoken of a Kitty but he never mentioned last names." She took Catherine's hand in hers and gave a light squeeze. "I'm glad you're here," she said sincerely.
For no reason that Catherine could fathom, tears glistened in her eyes and she nodded her head before turning away to reach for her drink. She didn't see Sam's cautious look or Jace's comforting wink to his wife.
"Thank you. I'm glad I came, too. I met Jace at a low point in my life and, like a good friend, he helped me through it. It's nice to know that he found the happiness he deserved."
It was the most touching and honest thing Sam had ever heard her say about another person, and again he was surprised. What kind of woman could change so rapidly from one personality to another? A witch? Perhaps. He slowly let out his breath and tried to will away the jealousy that had risen within him. Catherine wasn't his and he had no right to that emotion. Calm down, man, he told himself, but his muscles weren't listening. They were still knotted. This was crazy. He wanted to throw her over his shoulder and storm out of the door and into his car, driving her as fast and far away as possible from Jace Sullivan. He took another deep breath and let it out in a sigh, not bothering to listen to the teasing conversation around him. This was definitely going to be a long evening, so he'd better pull himself together.
The party was a huge success if the easygoing laughter of the guests was anything to go by. Sam sat and watched the interplay between Catherine and all of the men, astounded that she was so relaxed. Only a few times had she tensed up, but Jace had been there and had intervened between her and one of the producers, named Lenny. He had obviously read a lot about Catherine and truly believed the printed word. But before Sam could come to her rescue, Jace had been there, turning the innuendo into a harmless joke and once more things had died down. Everything except the look that Lenny occasionally cast in Catherine's direction. From that point on, Sam hadn't left her side.
She didn't seem to mind his being close, but she didn't seem to care, either. Damn her! Couldn't she see she was tying him in knots?
Once or twice Catherine had helped April in the kitchen. It was a good thing, because April would have burned the dinner if she had been given a chance to warm the meal that the caterer had left. For April everything was either on high or off. She didn't seem to know there was an in-between.
Sam was sure the food wasn't really sawdust, but he was hard pressed to taste anything, so intent was he on taking care of Catherine before Jace could. Why couldn't Jace be a stranger? How could anyone just be a friend to Catherine?
Finally the evening came to an end, and the guests began drifting into the night until only Sam and Catherine were left.
Jace closed the door and returned to the living room, a big smile on his face. "Well, how about a midnight swim?"
Catherine and April both grinned conspiratorially at his boyish charm. "No, thanks, Jace." Catherine sighed regretfully as she stood and stretched. "I'm for bed. I'm supposed to be resting up."
"Party pooper," April teased, but her eyes were on Jace.
"In that case, it's time to go." Sam rose stiffly, his face stern as he possessively reached for Catherine's hand to lead her out to the car.
"Where are you staying, Kitty?" Jace asked, his glance taking in Sam's proprietary hold. He barely contained his grin. So old Sam was smitten at last.
"At Jimmy Reingold's house, about five miles from here," Sam said stiffly.
"The one with the sign that says Castaways?" Jace prodded much to Sam's annoyance.
April didn't seem to notice his goading. "And I already have the number," she chimed in, her face smiling as she gave Catherine's shoulders a light squeeze. "We won't lose her this time."
Catherine barely held back the lump of feelings that had lodged in her throat. "Thank you," she said softly, her blue eyes looking into April's as if to indicate some things were best left unsaid.
"You're welcome," April said gently.
Unspoken communication seemed to flow between the two women. Finally Sam coughed to gain their attention.
"Ready?" he said gruffly, and she nodded before giving Jace a peck on the cheek.
Her blue eyes glinted mischievously. "Take care, Jace."
"You bet I will." Jace's arm spanned the back of April's waist, giving a squeeze. "Finding gold at ends of rainbows usually isn't my style, but I'm not dumb enough to lose it once I have it."
The ride home was silent. Catherine's head rested on the back of the seat, a small smile parenthesizing her mouth.
Sam's fingers tightened on the steering wheel, his eyes straight ahead as he drove the winding road through the canyons. Before he could think of something clever to say or witty to throw out as bait for a conversation, they were there. He turned into the drive and pulled as far up as he could, flipping off the lights with a controlled, angry action before swiveling in his seat to confront Catherine. Somehow she must have known that he wouldn't let her go yet, for she was sitting perfectly still, her eyes staring out the windshield, her hands clasped loosely in her lap.
Without volition, Sam's hand reverently touched the spun gold of her hair, sliding it between his fingers. He was almost caressing it, watching it change color as he moved it from shadow to light. A golden girl—all white and gold and so very sweet smelling. She was so very beautiful and so very far away…
"Did you love him?" Sam finally asked in a low and rasping tone. Visions of Jace and Catherine marched in his head.
"I thought so. Very much," Catherine said slowly, her voice seeping into his brain to make the pain even more sharp. Noah's face drifted in front of her.
His hand hesitated only a moment before continuing to play with her hair. "Did he love you?"
"Looking back? No." Her voice tightened and she swallowed. "I don't think he ever did, even though I wished it with all my heart. I guess I thought my wishing would make it come true."
"The bastard," Sam muttered under his breath, wondering how anyone could not love her. He was also wondering how he could get away with punching Jace's face in.
"No." Catherine gave a small sad smile in the darkened interior of the car. "I was just silly for trying to make myself believe something that I unconsciously knew was false. I only believed what I wanted to believe. It wasn't his fault. He didn't lead me on." And he hadn't. Noah had told her from the beginning that he only wanted "companionship" from her. She was the one who had hoped, even dreamed, to change his mind.
Sam wrapped a small curl around his index finger. "How could he not care?" He said it almost casually, as if discussing the weather.
"He cared. But I wasn't asking for care," she said, a small note of sadness tinging her voice. "I was asking for love."
"Okay, then how could he not love you?"
Slowly, very slowly, her head turned, her large blue eyes straining in the semidarkness to see into his. An expression of disbelief was on her face. "Do you love me, Sam?"
He hesitated, lost in the midnight-blue spell of her eyes. Finally he answered. "I don't know."
She smiled then, a big beautiful smile that he felt all the way down to his Topsider shoes. His breath caught in his throat. His heart hammered out the real answer in Morse code.
Catherine leaned forward. "Good. Don't." Her lips suddenly brushed his, as if in passing, but the electricity that he had felt before was still there and ready to leap between them.
Before he could make it a more lasting kiss, she was out of the car and walking toward the front door, giving a jaunty wave over her shoulder.
Sam sat in his seat watching the musical movements of her body as she climbed the steps to the veranda. She was charming, witty, sweet, vulnerable and famous. And she was in love with Jace.
As Catherine slipped the key into the lock, Sam turned on the ignition in the car.
As she stepped in the door, he slammed the car in reverse.
As the lights went on, he carelessly backed his way down the dark drive, his head turned so that he could follow the general curve of the concrete.
As she flew down the driveway toward him, he spun the car around to head in the direction he was going.
Suddenly he stopped.
As she flew down the driveway! His thoughts froze as he watched her racing toward him. Blood pounded in his head as he realized the terror that was making her feet have wings. He could see the expression of stark fear on her face. As she got closer, he could see the tears running down her cheeks, he could hear the sobs that threatened to escape loudly into the night air.
He slammed the car into park, pulled the emergency brake and jumped from the car, racing toward her. They met at the end of the driveway. She crumbled into the shelter of his arms, almost knocking him down with the impact.
Her words were barely coherent. "He's been there, Sam! He came back! I think he's still there! The house! Oh, my God, the house!"
"Wait a minute!" Sam exclaimed. "Tell me again. What happened?" He held her head in his hands, his eyes searching for the answers before her mouth could form the words. But all he saw was stark fear, a terror that she felt so deep her skin was frozen with it.
"Someone's in the house. At least I think he's still there. The living room is torn apart, pillows messed, the TV's gone, the stereo's gone. I don't know what else!" She grabbed the front of his shirt, her eyes pleading. "Don't you understand? He came back! The burglar came back!"
"Shhhhh," Sam said, his mind working as quickly as greased lightning. "Don't worry. You're safe."
"Safe?" she cried, hiccuping as she angrily swiped at the tears on her cheeks. "Why? Just because you're here? You were in the driveway when I walked into the house! I was unprotected!"
"I know, but I'm with you now!" Sam shouted, just as angrily. "You're the one who can do without macho men around, playing games you think always lead to sex! If I had insisted and walked you to the door, you would have thought I was after your body!"
Her eyes grew wider, her tears stopping. "Weren't you?"
"Yes, dammit!"
The sound of a distant car engine grew to a dull roar, and a vehicle came veering around the bend of the hill.
"Oh, no!" Sam exclaimed, pulling her along after him as he made a gesture for the driver to slow down and go around his car. Brakes screeched and the car turned, missing the bumper of Sam's car by inches.
"Get in!" he yelled, shoving her toward the passenger side of his car before running around to the driver's side. Once more, he slammed the car in gear and began driving down the hill.
Catherine sat huddled in the corner of the seat, her legs and arms trembling as if she had caught a chill. Her teeth chattered in the silence, punctuated only by Sam's murmured cursing as he negotiated each curve.
They were at Jace's house in ten minutes. Grabbing her arm, Sam led her to the front door and began pounding, his anger apparent in every gesture.
"What the…" Jace stood in the doorway, his hair rumpled, feet bare, and a pair of jeans hastily donned, if their unbuttoned state was anything to go by. Despite her fear, Catherine had to smile.
Sam brushed by Jace, continuing to hold her arm in a viselike grip until they got to the center of the hallway.
"Someone broke into Catherine's house. I've got to call the police," was his terse explanation as he walked toward the hall telephone.
"When?" Jace was alert now.
"Just now."
"Did they take anything?"
"Stereo, TV, maybe more. I don't know." Sam punched out the numbers and waited, his expression set in stone as he sent a narrow-eyed look in Catherine's direction.
"Are they still there?"
"Don't know," Sam said again. Then he began talking to the officer on duty, and Jace walked over to Catherine, putting his arms around her. She clung to him, finally letting go of the panic as she realized she was really safe. Tears began again and she softly sobbed into his chest.
Her eyes ached, her back ached, her neck ached. She didn't know when April walked in with a shot glass of whiskey; she only did what they told her and drank it straight down, not even wincing as it burned her throat.
April was saying something to her as she sat on the couch, but all she could do was nod her head, mumbling yes or no. She was frozen inside, as if someone had poured ice cubes into her system. It was silly to have such a strong reaction. She was a very capable woman, why wasn't she behaving like one? Why couldn't she stop this shivering? It was as if her mind was working on two different levels: one was logical and responsive, the other was somersaulting in sheer panic.
Sam leaned down in front of her, his face level with hers. "Catherine? I'll be back in a while. I'm going to meet the police at your house. We'll get to the bottom of this."
Her hand reached out to touch and slide across the side of his strong jaw, feeling the beard that was forming. "Sam," she murmured, tears filling her eyes. "Don't. Let the police handle it. Please?" Somehow, even as she said the words, she knew that he would go.
He stood and her hand trailed back to lay lax in her lap. Without another word, he left. And a part of her heart went with him.
April made fresh coffee laced with brandy and the three of them, April, Jace and Catherine, sat in a tightly knit circle at the kitchen table and waited in tense silence. Jace asked her once more what happened, and this time she was able to give him a fairly capable account of it.
She told him of the mess in both the hall and living room. What she couldn't express was the fear of the unknown person in her home, violating her privacy, perhaps hurting her…
The minutes slowly ticked by on the wall clock.
Catherine's thoughts turned to Sam. Sweet Sam. She surprised herself with that notion. After her misspent youth and then Noah Weston, she thought she'd never think of a man as being sweet again. Oh, not that Sam wasn't also contrary, abrupt and panting after her like all the others. But there was something very different, about him. His anger tonight had frightened her for a moment. It had scared her enough to forget about her own plight and worry about his, until she realized that even in a temper he would never hurt her.
She almost chuckled to herself when she remembered his admission about wanting her. He had practically shouted it from the rooftops! And he had looked so very, very frustrated!
And suddenly she knew. All the signs were there: the electricity between them; her wanting to continue to touch him and forcing herself to leave distance between them; even her own mind connection with him.
She cared for Sam Lewis more than she had ever dreamed possible.
But why? Certainly it wasn't because of his long lean looks, or his sexy bedroom eyes. It wasn't because he was an attorney who made a great deal of money. After all, she had more than plenty of that commodity herself. Was it because he was witty, fun to be with, seeming to know what was on her mind before she did? Was it be-cause he was so honest in his answers and expected her honesty, too?
She did not have the answer, and that frightened her more than the burglar's visit had. Sam's narrow-eyed look when he left told her that he was angry with her again. But why? Perhaps if she had told him of her fears… No. She'd never tell anyone. Not anyone.
Damn! All she knew was that she wanted to be in Sam's arms. She wanted his reassurance that everything was going to be okay. She wanted his lips on hers, his hands touching her. Now.
Two hours later she had run through all the things she should have said to Sam. She was also very tipsy and wide awake. April had refilled her coffee with brandy at least five times, and she had never objecte
d. She had never said, no thank you, as she usually did, nor did she reject drinking the brew.
Jace had been on the phone several times, but the wordless messages had passed between him and April, leaving Catherine out of it. She would glance up and see the looks in their eyes, then, without bothering to figure out their silent code, she would stare out the window again. She didn't care. If there wasn't news of Sam, she wasn't interested.
Her shaking had stopped long ago, but with each passing minute now, it was returning. Her legs, her hands, even her arms were quaking as if she were chilled from the night air. It was nothing but fear, she kept telling herself as she tried to calm down. Only this time her fear was for Sam's safety. Where was he?
Wherever he was, when he returned she was drunkenly determined to give him a hero's welcome. He de-served it for being there when she needed him most. Yes, her fuzzy mind proclaimed, a hero's welcome was just what was needed here. Just as soon as the damned hero turned up!
5
A screech of tires in the driveway brought April and Catherine's heads swiveling toward the front door. Jace got up from the couch and stood facing the entryway, his face a mask of suppressed feelings as he waited for Sam to walk in.
Questions ran around in Catherine's mind like small darting fish. Had they caught the burglar? Who was he? Or was it a she? A shiver of apprehension slithered down her spine. The brandy was making her body lethargic but her mind was still traveling too quickly for her to understand fully.
The door opened and Sam's lean, hard body filled the frame. His brown hair was mussed disarmingly, falling in a wave over his forehead. His clothing was still neat and casual, but his shoes were caked with a rim of dark mud. His gaze locked with Catherine's, noting the light touch of pink in her cheeks from the liquor she had drunk.
Catherine slowly stood, as if waiting for a sentence from a judge. Her knees shook with reaction. "Sam?" she croaked and his shoulders loosened at her words. He was all right. That was all that mattered. To hell with the house. Sam was safe.