by Sandra Brown
“Seth,” she laughed lightly, hoping no one heard the underlying hysteria, “I can’t go on a trip like that at this time of year. You need me here, to help in the stores. Besides, who would take care of Theron? I wouldn’t want to leave him for that long. I was miserable without him in New York. He’ll think I’ve deserted him.” She hated to use her child as a weapon, but she was engaged in a battle for her sanity, her life.
“I discount each and every argument,” Seth said summarily. “In the first place, the store has survived decades of holiday seasons, and as valuable as you are, we’ll survive this one without you. There will still be almost two weeks before Christmas when you get back. You know as well as I do that Theron is perfectly content to stay under Alice’s watchful care. He’ll miss you, but he’ll get over it the minute you return and won’t even remember that you’ve been gone.”
“But, Seth, I don’t…” She was grasping at straws. Think! she commanded herself. “I’m not ready. My passport… clothes… I couldn’t—”
“Your passport is in perfect condition. You had it renewed last year when you and Eliot went to England to buy those woolens. Alice can get your clothes ready in time. When do you leave, Erik? Thursday?” At Erik’s nod, he said, “There, you see, you have three days in which to get things together. Eliot can help you pack the clothes and accessories to be used in the commercials.”
Kathleen wondered with a detached part of her mind what the two men would do if she started screaming uncontrollably, as she felt she might do at any moment.
“Erik, what do you think? This is your project, after all,” Seth said.
Erik’s manner was subdued while Seth and Kathleen waited expectantly to hear his answer. “Naturally, she would be a tremendous help. However, I’d never presume to interfere. This is between the two of you. Much as I could use her, Kathleen has to make the decision.”
“Kathleen,” Seth urged gently, “I need you to do this for me. I’d go myself if I could.” He wheeled up close to her chair and took her hands. “I feel that we need a representative from Kirchoff’s there. You know the merchandise better than anyone. It’ll be hard work, but think of it as a vacation to a tropical climate in December.” He smiled and squeezed her hand. “Do this for me.”
Put that way, how could she refuse?
* * *
The next three days passed in a hazy blur of disjointed recollections. Without Eliot’s help, Kathleen could never have coordinated the commercials wardrobe in time and had the clothes packed and ready to board the chartered plane.
Eliot griped petulantly, whining that she couldn’t do without him. Why didn’t she insist that he go along?
“Because I need you here, Eliot,” she answered for the dozenth time. “To look after things.”
“It’s not fair,” he grumbled. “I’d go without salary just for the chance to look at Gudjonsen for a whole week.”
“I’m sure Tamara will take care of him.”
“That bitch,” Eliot scoffed. “I hope he’s more discriminating than that. She’d screw anything walking. Four-legged or two.”
“Oh, Eliot,” Kathleen sighed, and rubbed her forehead wearily. It was a characteristic gesture of hers these days.
Hazel didn’t let her go without adding to her anxiety about leaving. One day when everyone else was out to lunch, she slipped into Kathleen’s office. Kathleen didn’t see her standing in the doorway until she spoke. “So you’re winging off to the sunny tropics with the handsome photographer.”
Kathleen controlled her suddenly racing heart, schooled her features and answered levelly, “If you’re referring to the trip to shoot the commercials, yes, I’m going—at my husband’s request.”
“Seth is a fool! Doesn’t he see how cozy, how easy, he’s making it for you and that hulking Gudjonsen? When will you be dropping another bastard on my stupid brother? Hmmm?”
Kathleen had bristled with anger, then quaked with fear. Could Hazel know? No. She was only taunting her. Coolly, Kathleen replied, “I don’t have to justify to you anything I do, but I have never been unfaithful to Seth. Nor will I be.”
“Ha! Given the opportunity, you would. And he’s giving you a perfect one. He thinks that by giving you free rein, he’ll keep you. He’s weak.”
“What you regard as weakness is really unselfishness, something totally foreign to you, Hazel. I know where your bitterness comes from. Seth told me about the man who left you standing at the altar. I might be able to sympathize with you if you weren’t one of the most hateful people I’ve ever met. As it is, I can only pity you for the loneliness you bring on yourself.”
“Shut up. How dare you pity me! Me!” Her face was terrible with hatred. Her whole body quivered with suppressed rage.
Kathleen threw caution aside. She was too wound up, her emotions too raw, to weigh the wisdom of the words she flung at Hazel. “And don’t think I don’t see through your concern for Seth. It isn’t generated by love or even mild affection.
“You resent him because you want to control Kirchoff’s. As firstborn, you thought the presidency should have rightfully been passed to you when your father died. He had discounted Seth because of his disability and you because of your sex. When your uncle died and the helm was once again up for grabs, you didn’t dare fight Seth for it. It would have been unthinkable for you to engage in a power struggle with your paraplegic brother.
“But perhaps you should have, Hazel. You should have either battled him for it then or learned to live with your decision. You are your own worst enemy, not me. I had nothing to do with your being jilted, or being passed over by your father. Seth loves you. Why, I can’t imagine, but I don’t intend to interfere with or alter your relationship.”
Hazel’s eyes narrowed and her nostrils flared when she threatened, “I’ll trip you up yet. And the day’s coming. When I do, my brother will have to see you for what you are. That will destroy him, and when he’s down, I’ll get mine. I’ll be in control of Kirchoff’s.” She spun around and stormed from the office, leaving Kathleen more afraid of the woman’s mental imbalance than ever before. Hazel was out to win in a contest of wills and would risk anything for victory.
The evening before they were scheduled to leave, Kathleen spent every moment with Theron. Erik had come by earlier and played with him on the living room floor, much to Hazel’s disgust and everyone else’s delight.
Kathleen watched their tussles with pride in her son and fear that Erik would try to steal Theron from her. It was evident in everything he did that he loved the boy. They were carbon copies of each other. Kathleen only hoped that to everyone else the likeness was less obvious.
Erik left, saying that he would see them in the morning at the airport. Kathleen went up with Alice and tucked Theron into his bed. She would see him again before she left, but there was something special about kissing him goodnight.
“Mamma,” he said as she switched off the light.
“Goodnight, my precious,” she whispered as she leaned over him one more time and kissed his cheek. She pulled back in dismay. The scent of Erik’s cologne still clung to Theron’s pajamas. A wave of longing swept over her.
Thoroughly put out with herself for feeling desire for Erik even after having suffered his verbal abuse, she went dispiritedly to her room and began getting ready for bed.
Why must he be so disturbingly, beautifully male? Why was everything he did made to look effortless? He was competent in his work. The first series of commercials he had produced for Kirchoff’s were so well done that her heart burst with pride each time she saw one of them.
But he was no knight in shining armor. He had one major flaw. He had admitted it to Seth. He was selfish.
Was that so surprising?
He was a fair-haired child, a golden boy. He had always had things going more or less his way. He had everything he wanted. Now he wanted her, but when she resisted him, he had resorted to contempt. And what would he do about Theron? More than anything, she fear
ed him on that point. He loved his son. To what lengths would he go to have him?
She looked herself squarely in the eye in the mirror over her bathroom sink and asked aloud, “Are you any better than he is?” She wanted him just as much as he obviously wanted her. Unfaithfulness went against everything she believed in and adhered to. Fidelity to one’s spouse was an elemental dogma to her. Hadn’t that been the one thing that she could never have tolerated from Erik? When she thought he was married, she had run.
It was different with her, though, she thought piously. It wasn’t a trivial sexual dalliance she wanted. She loved Erik. Didn’t she? Or was she so self-righteous, as he had accused, that she wanted to convince herself that she loved him? Was that only a sanctimonious excuse for the blood that coursed through her veins, looking for an outlet every time she saw Erik, felt his touch?
Did she really love Erik? Or was she only a woman whose natural, healthy sex drive worked overtime whenever a man as attractive as Erik was around?
* * *
She stood in the dimly lit den and tapped timidly on the door. She had never been invited into this room, and her heart was thudding so loudly that she barely heard Seth’s “George?”
She swallowed her shyness and answered softly, “No, it’s Kathleen.”
There was a long, stunned pause, then the soft whisper of bedclothes before he said, “Come in.”
She put down her last shred of caution and opened the door, going into Seth’s bedroom for the first time. She knew she looked alluring. Her hair was brushed to a silky sheen and hung beguilingly on her bare shoulders. Her diaphanous nightgown of a sea-foam color wafted around her figure as she walked on bare feet toward the wide bed.
All the lights, save the bedside lamp, had been turned out when George quitted the room. Seth’s image was diffused in the soft light, or it could have been the blur of tears in Kathleen’s eyes that prevented her from seeing him well.
“Kathleen,” he whispered, “you look beautiful.”
“I hope I’m not disturbing you, Seth.” Of course she was disturbing him. Suddenly, she felt rather silly, but was resolved to banish Erik Gudjonsen from her mind once and for all.
“Is something wrong?”
Did she look that upset? “No,” she answered softly. By now, she had reached the bed and was looking down at him. Seth was sitting up with a book resting across his lap. He was barechested. She had seen him in swimming trunks when he and George did their therapy in the pool, but she was forever amazed at how well developed the muscles of his arms and chest were. There was a light sprinkling of dark hair, not nearly as much as—
“Seth,” she said, and hesitantly sat down on the side of the bed with her hip snugly against the curve of his waist. “Seth,” she repeated, not sure where to start. She had never seduced anyone before. Erik didn’t count. He had been the seducer “I’m going to miss you while I’m gone.”
“I’m going to miss you, too.” He smiled, using those beautiful teeth set in his dark, shadowed face, the mouth that curved so magnanimously, the gentle eyes that constantly bespoke contentment in spite of his handicap.
“Are you?” Kathleen laid her hand on his chest. She gently plucked at the sparse hair, then moved her fingers restlessly, nervously, across the sculpted muscles.
“Yes,” he answered.
She leaned over him then and kissed him on the lips. Her breasts, covered only by the sheer nightgown that didn’t hide the dusky nipples, brushed against his chest. Sacrificing pride for the sake of her cause, she moved her mouth over his, inviting his lips to open, to kiss her in a way they had never kissed before. When he hesitantly complied, her tongue slipped between his teeth.
His hands were at her shoulders, and he was pushing her away. “Kathleen, Kathleen, why are you doing this?” he asked, pained.
“You love me, Seth,” she said desperately.
“Yes. More than my life. You know I do.”
“I love you. I want… I want to… to make love to you.” She looked down at her hands still resting on his chest.
The silence was palpable. The two people on the bed were as immovable as statues. Finally, Seth spoke barely above a whisper. “You want the impossible, Kathleen. You know that. Why are you tormenting me?”
“I don’t intend to torment you. I want to love you and have you love me.”
“Here,” he pointed to his temple, “I want to more than I want to live tomorrow. But you know that I can’t. If I were able to, do you think I would have abstained for two years?” he asked incredulously.
“Seth,” she said urgently before she lost her nerve, “I know that we can’t be conventional lovers. That we can’t… you know… There are other ways that I could please you and you me.”
“Kathleen—”
She stood up abruptly and whisked the nightgown over her head until she stood before him naked in the soft light. He sucked in his breath sharply, and she saw his fists clench tightly at his sides. “Kathleen,” he breathed.
She sat down beside him again and lifted one of his hands, pressing it to her breast. For long moments, he stared up into her face, wondering if she were indeed a haunting dream. Would he wake up again, discovering, as always, that he could only feel those stirrings in his sleep, but never again in his life? Then his eyes dropped to his hand and her soft breast. He stared at it in awe, not trusting himself to believe that he was actually caressing Kathleen’s flesh.
His other hand covered her breast. She leaned over him and kissed him again. This time, Seth’s response wasn’t as long in coming. His mouth took hers greedily and savored the taste of her. His hands moved, caressingly, lovingly.
Kathleen welcomed his touch and encouraged it as she lay across his chest and made herself accessible to whatever exploration he desired. His hands roamed over her back, around her rib cage and down her stomach. The softness of her belly knew his tender search. Then he dipped lower and touched the hidden femininity he had denied himself even to think about.
“Oh, my God,” he ground out as he clasped her to him tightly. Then, just as suddenly, she was released. In alarm, she sat up. Seth’s head was pressed back into the pillow, his eyes squeezed shut, his teeth bared in a terrible grimace of pain more agonizing than any he had felt since the fatal night of his accident.
“Seth?” The panic in her voice caused him to open his eyes.
“Kathleen,” he gasped. “I’m sorry, but don’t ask this of me. Please.”
“I’m sorry,” she sobbed.
“No, dear heart, I’m sorry.” He pulled her down to his chest again, but it was in comfort, not passion. “Kathleen, before my accident, I was quite a good lover, I think. At least, several ladies thought so.” She could hear the humor in his voice. “I know what I could do for you. I could bring you temporary relief from the desire you’re feeling, but I couldn’t ever give you what you would ultimately want. And I could never stand to deny you anything. Do you understand? Please don’t ask me to bastardize the way a man and a woman should love.”
“Seth,” she mumbled into his chest, and wept. Her tears manifested her deepest despair. She had been wrong to use Seth this way. It was unkind and unfair. He was no witch doctor. He was no magician, and if he were the most powerful exorcist, he couldn’t have rid her of Erik. She had known that the moment Seth touched her. Her body still belonged to Erik. It hadn’t responded to Seth’s gentle touch, and that was a profound grief to her. She owed this man so much.
“Seth, I’m so ashamed. I never meant to hurt you.”
“I know, my love. My dearest love.”
“We love on a higher plane than others,” she said.
His rueful laugh tickled her ear, which was pressed against his chest. “I’m not sure of that. If I could give you a strong, healthy body, I would gladly trade this high plane of love for one more base. But no one could love you more than I, Kathleen.”
“I know.”
Seth held her for as long as she stayed with him. She cr
ied softly into the curve of his neck. Her murmurings were often incoherent and random. She never knew when she sleepily whispered another’s name. But Seth heard it. The shattered expression on his face reflected the heartache he felt inside. For himself and for his beloved.
Chapter Eighteen
Kathleen sat under the thatch-roofed table in a relaxed position and wished she felt as calm on the inside as she looked on the outside. They were taking a break. Everyone in the crew was lounging around the patio at Harry’s Bar, which overlooked the Atlantic. Kathleen was covertly watching Erik and Tamara, who had separated themselves from the others and walked down to the rocky beach alone.
Harry’s wasn’t quite as famous as the Harry’s Bar in Venice, but to tourists from the United States it was well known on Grand Bahama Island as a place to buy an American hamburger. Located midway between West End and Freeport, it was a good stopover for a cool tropical drink, beer, or a full lunch or dinner.
One of the lighting crew brought Kathleen a paper cup of goombay punch. She sipped it tentatively. It was fruity and cool, but she knew too many glasses could hit one like a sledge hammer. It was the most dangerous of alcoholic drinks, for there was no alcohol taste.
The drink didn’t extinguish the fire that had been smoldering and simmering inside Kathleen for the past few days. Every time she saw Erik and Tamara together, she boiled with jealous anger. The blonde couldn’t keep her hands off him. When he was giving directions to her or any of the other models, she chose to drape herself over him like a vine rather than standing straight and listening as he talked to them in a brisk, professional tone.
He wasn’t immune to her attention, though. He was flirtatious with all the models, getting them to do exactly as he asked. Erik’s patience with them knew no bounds. But his flirting with Tamara had taken on the attitude of blatant invitation. Each look, each touch that passed between the two of them was rife with innuendo. They are probably sleeping together already, Kathleen thought bitterly as she heard Tamara’s pealing laughter coming from the direction of the beach. When she couldn’t resist looking toward them, she saw the model perched on a high rock. Erik’s strong, lean arms were reaching up to lift her down.