She said, ‘I don’t feel guilty,’ and knew he didn’t believe her.
The truth was, he knew her better than she knew herself. Though she had eventually managed to push any feelings of guilt to the back of her mind, Martin’s well intentioned intervention had brought them to the fore again.
She sighed, regretting that unpleasant little scene in the hall. He had only been trying to protect her, she knew, but she neither wanted nor needed his protection. Even so, she shouldn’t have been so rotten to him…
Slanting her a sideways glance, Jared asked, ‘Something wrong?’
Unwilling to cast a blight over things, she said, ‘No. nothing…’ Then, resting her head briefly on his shoulder, ‘When we’re going to spend a lovely long weekend together, what could be wrong?’
He smiled and reached to give her hand a squeeze.
Perdita found the journey—which put her in mind of the road movies she had seen—quite fascinating. The traffic was fairly heavy, forcing them to slow to a crawl as they passed towering hoardings and neon signs saying Eats or Burgers.
As the evening advanced, however, the traffic grew less and they started to make better time. Even so, it was getting dark and she was almost asleep before they began to drop down towards their destination.
‘Look,’ Jared said softly.
Opening her eyes, she caught her breath.
Ahead of them, spread like a many-jewelled cloak over the black floor of the desert, was Las Vegas, its glittering Strip setting the night sky ablaze with starbursts of brilliant light and colourful cascades of neon.
It was a sight she knew she would never forget, and she breathed, ‘Isn’t it romantic?’
‘It certainly looks it from here,’ Jared agreed, before adding a shade cynically, ‘which only goes to prove the old saying, “distance lends enchantment”.’
As they drove into town she could both see and hear that every hotel and casino was bursting with life and colour, movement and noise.
There were more than enough brilliant lights and flashing neon signs to turn night into day, and she could quite easily believe that this was a place that never slept.
Jared had chosen a hotel which proved to be relatively quiet and secluded, with only a small casino for the hotel guests and none of the ranks of slot machines which, he told her, most of the other hotels boasted.
When they had settled into their suite, Jared asked, ‘Would you like to go downstairs to eat, and maybe later pay a visit to the casino?’
Having no inclination to do either, she answered, ‘I don’t really mind. Would you like to?’
He shook his head. ‘I’d much prefer to eat up here, and, though I occasionally play roulette, I’m not much of a gambler.’
Finding they were in perfect accord, they shared a quiet supper in their suite before showering and going to bed.
After a wonderful night of tender and passionate lovemaking, they awoke early and had breakfast on their balcony, the better to enjoy the sunshine and the warm desert air.
Feeling carefree, on top of the world, Perdita stretched luxuriously and remarked, ‘If this is the sort of “dangerous escapade” that Dad has always tried to warn me about, all I can say is, I wish I’d done it sooner.’
Intending it to be just a light-hearted remark she was surprised by Jared’s reaction.
His face serious, he said, ‘I have grave doubts about you doing it at all. I should never have persuaded you.’
‘I didn’t need much persuading,’ she pointed out.
‘Look, my love—’ he took her hand and gripped it tightly ‘—this kind of hole and corner thing isn’t really for us. Let’s get married.’
‘But we will as soon as Dad—’
‘No, I mean now. Today. I want everyone to know you’re my wife, not think you’re just some bit of fluff who warms my bed.’
‘Who cares what anyone else thinks?’
‘I do.’ Lifting her hand to his lips, he kissed the palm. ‘Let’s go and buy a ring and get married at one of the wedding chapels.’
As she started to shake her head, he said, ‘It may seem a bit sleazy, but we’ll have a proper wedding with a dress and all the trimmings as soon as your father’s better.’
‘No, it’s not that…’
‘What is it, then?’
‘I would be quite happy to get married here, so long as we can keep it a secret for the time being.’
Seeing him frown, she added quickly, ‘I can’t chance Dad finding out until all these tests are over and done with and I know his heart is strong enough to stand the shock.’
‘Suppose it never is?’
‘It will be,’ she said confidently.
They were married that afternoon in a quiet little chapel on the edge of town. The old adobe chapel was bare and white, with a few unpretentious flowers and a single mellow bell that rang joyously.
The simple ceremony was soon over and when she and Jared walked out into the sunshine hand in hand they were man and wife.
‘Now what would you like to do?’ he asked.
Totally blissful and without a care in the world, she said, ‘What I’d really like to do is see something of the desert.’
‘Then we’ll go for a nice long drive, and later this evening, if you’d like to, we’ll have a celebratory meal at the Santecopa and stay for the cabaret and the dancing.’
‘Sounds lovely,’ she agreed happily.
After a lovely and memorable drive through the varied and rugged desert terrain, they returned to their hotel in Las Vegas to have a shower, before walking to the Santecopa, which was just around the corner.
Perdita, who had showered while Jared was confirming their table booking, had just finished dressing when the phone in their suite rang.
More than a little surprised, she picked it up and said, ‘Hello?’
‘Dita, I’ve been trying to get hold of you all afternoon.’ Martin’s voice was urgent. ‘Your father’s had another heart attack, and this time it may be touch and go.’
‘Oh, dear God,’ she breathed. Then, in a panic, ‘What am I going to do?’
‘Leave everything to me. I’ve just flown in and I’m downstairs in the lobby. I’ve got a cab waiting and two tickets on the next plane to Los Angeles if we can get to the airport in time.’
‘I’ll be down at once.’
Slamming the phone down, she rushed through to the bedroom where Jared was just emerging from the shower. ‘Dad’s had another heart attack,’ she choked out fearfully.
Throwing aside the towel, he reached for his clothes. ‘We’ll fly straight to Los Angeles—’
‘No, it would be best if you stayed here—’
Already pulling on his clothes, he said, ‘Don’t be foolish. I can’t let you go alone.’
‘Martin’s going to take me,’ she told him breathlessly. ‘He’s in the lobby now. He’s got tickets on the next flight and a taxi waiting.’
Seizing her bag and a jacket, she ran, saying over her shoulder, ‘As soon as I know how things are, I’ll let you know.’
On her way down in the lift she happened to notice her rings and, taking them off, she slipped them into her locket and snapped it shut.
The flight to Los Angeles was a mercifully short one and they were soon descending through the evening smog. But the taxi drive to Mardale, fraught with anxiety as it was, seemed to take an age.
When they arrived at the large modern hospital, apart from the accident and emergency wing, it was relatively quiet and seemed on the point of settling down for the night.
An urgent enquiry at the main reception desk sent them hurrying up to the intensive care coronary unit, where they were stopped by a locked door with a keypad, a voice grille, and a closed-circuit television camera.
A disembodied male voice said, ‘This is a limited entry unit, so please state your business.’
‘I’m Miss Boyd.’ Perdita kept her voice steady with an effort. ‘I’ve come to see my father, John Boyd. E
arlier today he suffered a heart attack and I understand he’s dangerously ill.’
There was a long pause, then the voice said, ‘We don’t appear to have a patient of that name listed. If you’ll wait a moment I’ll try and get hold of the doctor in charge.’
After an agonizing wait, the door opened and a short balding man with cold blue eyes and an irascible manner appeared.
Closing the door behind him, he said brusquely, ‘Miss Boyd, I’m Dr Sondheim. You appear to have misunderstood or been misinformed—’ his expression made it abundantly clear which he believed ‘—about the severity of your father’s condition. Though he had what might loosely be described as a heart attack, it was an extremely mild one, and I can assure you that he’s in no immediate danger.’
Perdita released the breath she’d been holding in a sob of relief as Martin asked, ‘You’re quite sure about that?’
The doctor gave him an exceedingly frosty look and said, ‘Quite sure.’
‘Please can we see him?’ Perdita begged.
‘This is the intensive care unit and your father is in the normal coronary unit.’
‘Can we see him there?’
‘My dear young lady, we can’t possibly allow people to come and go at all hours disturbing our patients,’ he said severely.
Then, as though to quash any possible argument, ‘And the absolute rule is, no visitors at night unless the patient is very seriously ill, which happily your father is not.’
Taking pity on her, he added in a slightly softer tone, ‘I strongly suggest that you go home and stop worrying. For the next twenty-four hours all your father needs is rest and quiet. When the twenty-four hours are up, we can resume the tests, and a couple of days after that you’ll have him home, safe and sound.
‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have patients to attend to who are seriously ill.’
Before she could even thank him, he had keyed in a number and disappeared back inside, shutting the door firmly behind him and leaving them standing in the dimly lit, deserted corridor.
After all the previous worry, the sheer relief of finding her father was in no immediate danger had made Perdita start to tremble inwardly and turned her legs to water.
Watching her a shade anxiously, Martin asked, ‘Are you happy to leave it at that?’
Where a more gentle approach might have left some doubts, Dr Sondheim’s brusque, down-to-earth manner had effectively put her mind at rest and, pulling herself together, she nodded.
‘Then we’d better find a hotel for the night.’
‘No,’ she said decidedly. ‘I need to phone Jared and then get straight back to Las Vegas.’
She had half expected Martin to try and dissuade her from returning but, rather to her surprise, he accompanied her out of the hospital without a word.
When they got outside, with unsteady fingers she fumbled in her bag for her phone, only to find it wasn’t there.
‘Lend me your phone,’ she said to Martin.
After feeling in his pocket, he said, ‘Sorry, I don’t seem to have it with me.’
‘Then I’ll just pop back into the hospital and find a pay phone.’
He caught her arm. ‘Is there any point in phoning? After all, he’s probably gone to bed by now. Wouldn’t it make more sense to get the next plane back and surprise him?’
‘You’re right. But we’ll need to phone for a taxi.’
As she spoke, headlights approached and a cab drew up a short distance away and dropped a young couple, who hurried straight into the hospital.
‘We’re in luck,’ Martin exclaimed, signalling the driver, and a moment later they were in the cab and heading back to the airport. There was comparatively little traffic about and they made good time.
Perdita had expected Martin to go straight back to San Jose and was surprised when he asked for two tickets on the next flight to Vegas.
‘There’s really no need to come with me,’ she protested.
But, a determined look on his fair face, he said, ‘You’ve had one hell of a night, and there’s no way I’m letting you go alone.’
Not content with accompanying her on the flight, he insisted on getting a cab and escorting her back to the hotel.
Apart from when they had made a quick visit to the airport restrooms to wash their hands and freshen up, he hadn’t left her side for a moment.
She was well aware that, after the unkind way she had treated him, she should be grateful for all the care he had lavished on her but, even so, that amount of mollycoddling irritated her.
Although it was now the early hours of the morning, on reaching the floodlit Imperial Palace they found that the casino was still in full swing.
When, instead of just saying goodbye and leaving her there, Martin asked the taxi driver to wait and followed her into the lobby, her irritation overflowed. ‘For heaven’s sake, Martin, you don’t need to take me right back to the suite.’
Looking hurt, he said, ‘Earlier I noticed the hotel had an all night coffee bar, so I thought I’d snatch a quick cup before I started back.’
Feeling guilty at her own thoughtlessness, she said, ‘Of course…I’m sorry.’
Then, sincerely, ‘You’ve been absolutely great. I really can’t thank you enough for all your help.’
‘You know I’ll always be here for you.’
Touched, she stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek, promising, ‘I’ll give you a ring tomorrow,’ before hurrying to the lift.
As the doors slid open she glanced back and caught a glimpse of Martin taking his cellphone from his pocket. So he had got it after all.
When the lift stopped at the seventh floor, she walked along the deserted corridor until she got to suite 704.
Earlier she had dropped one of the card keys they had been given into her bag so, rather than wake Jared, she would go in quietly, slip into bed beside him and snuggle close.
With a little smile of anticipation, she pictured his surprise and pleasure when he awoke and realized she was back.
The card slid silently into the slot and the door opened with the slightest of clicks. She crossed the sitting room—which was in semi-darkness, the only light coming in from the floodlighting outside—and opened the bedroom door.
A single bedside lamp was lit and in its soft glow she saw a man with dark hair who appeared to be sleeping and, standing beside the bed, a naked woman, her long red hair falling around smooth white shoulders and voluptuous breasts.
For the space of a heartbeat, Perdita thought she was in the wrong suite.
Then her eyes confirmed what her brain was refusing to accept. Though she had never set eyes on the woman before, the man was undoubtedly Jared.
As Perdita stood, shocked into immobility, the redhead began to pull on her clothes.
Jared had always had a thing about redheads. The thought fell like an ice crystal into Perdita’s frozen mind. Then, like some zombie, she turned and walked away, out of the suite, out of Jared’s life.
Her mind feeling jarred, incapable of coherent thought, she got into the lift and pressed the first floor button.
When she reached the lobby, almost as if he had been expecting her, Martin appeared and walked towards her.
Dully, she said, ‘I want to go home.’
He asked no questions, merely said, ‘The cab’s still waiting so let’s go.’
During the dreadful days that followed, Martin was a tower of strength. He made no comment and asked no questions. He merely took care of her, encouraging her to sleep, stopping phone calls and visitors and reminding her to eat and drink.
Even through the thick haze of pain and misery that engulfed her, she recognized that he was doing everything in his power to please her and make her happy once more.
But the one thing he couldn’t do, the one thing she desperately needed to do, was expunge from her memory the sight of a redheaded woman whose naked breasts were like alabaster…
A knock at the door brought her back to the present with
a start and, shaken by the vividness of those memories, she paused to try and gather herself before calling, ‘Come in.’
Hilary appeared with a small case and, catching sight of Perdita’s face, queried, ‘Is something wrong?’
‘No, no…I was miles away.’
Proffering the case, Hilary said a shade doubtfully, ‘I’m not sure whether this will be big enough. What do you think?’
‘Oh, this should be fine, thanks,’ Perdita told her.
When Hilary had gone, Perdita packed the case, finding it was quite adequate for the small amount she was taking, and put it ready to go in the car.
After a little thought, she changed into a simple oatmeal dress with a loose jacket and open-toed shoes and put a matching handbag by the case.
Then, with half an hour or so to spare, she returned to the sunny patio to keep Sam company and try to regain her equanimity.
Jared was back rather earlier than he had anticipated and, when their cases had been stowed in the boot, they set off, purring north-eastwards along the St Helena Highway.
‘How far is it to Don and Estelle’s?’ she asked.
‘About five miles along the Valley,’ he told her. ‘Their place is called Villa Rosa.’
Apart from that brief exchange, the short journey proved to be a silent one.
When they drew up outside the Villa Rosa, Perdita saw it was a sprawling one-storey white painted frame house, its porch engulfed in climbing roses which made the air heady with scent.
Jared led the way round the back where quite a number of people were already assembled by the poolside barbecue, drinks in their hands.
Two men were tending the massive barbecue, one of them bare-chested and wearing frayed cut-offs and flip-flops, the other sporting a chef’s hat and apron.
There was an atmosphere of informal friendliness that was relaxed and pleasant. Most of the women wore cotton trousers and tops, the men shorts and T-shirts. Against the somewhat unprepossessing display of knees and paunches, Jared looked coolly elegant.
All the guests, men and women alike, had what Perdita was starting to recognize as an authentic West Coast tan.
Claiming His Wedding Night Page 14