A Prince for Jenny (15 page)

Claude Sullivan was unmoved. Jenny trembled near the doorway, torn between flight and fight.

She made one last overture of peace.

"We are going to be a family, and I hope you will be a part of it." Guided by instinct, Jenny crossed to Daniel's father, knelt beside his chair, and took one of his hands. "I know I'm different, Mr. Sullivan. I don't talk well and I don't walk well. But I can love. I can love as well as anybody in the whole world. I love Daniel and the children, and I hope you will let me love you, too."

Claude Sullivan sat in stony silence. There was absolutely no indication that he had even heard Jenny, let alone heeded her. She held his hand a while longer, then gently she laid it back in his lap.

The space between the chair and door seemed as vast as a scorching desert in Egypt. Leaning down, she kissed Daniel's father on the cheek, then she crossed that endless desert... alone.

 After the door closed behind her, Claude continued sitting in his chair. It was getting dark, but he didn't bother to turn on the lights. He reached for the remote control and switched on the television. It didn't matter what was playing, as long as it made noise.

Groucho Marx and his brothers cavorted across the screen. Canned laughter echoed in the room. The glow from the television screen fell across Claude's face and illuminated his tears.

 o0o

Daniel was near panic. He'd been driving for hours, and there was no sign of Jenny's car anywhere. Weary, he turned toward home.

It was getting late. The children would be ready for bed, and he wanted to be there to tuck them in. Then he'd have to call Jake Townsend. It would be one of the hardest phone calls he'd ever made.

Jenny was watching out the window for Daniel's car. When she saw the headlights, she waited for him at the front door.

She heard his key turning in the lock, and suddenly he was there, frozen in the doorway, holding her white satin wedding gown, a dozen emotions crossing his face. Jenny saw them all— relief, joy, pain, and then something she'd never expected, a sorrowful resignation.

Oh, Daniel, say something, her heart cried out.

He watched her, as still as his father had been. Only his eyes were alive.

The clock in the hallway chimed the hour, and outside the cicadas sang their summer song. Miss Williams tiptoed down the stairs and into the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea. There was a muffled sound upstairs as the bodyguards positioned themselves for their night watch over Daniel's children.

Daniel's muscles bunched into tight knots, and he clenched his jaw so hard, he almost broke teeth. Every fiber in his body was crying out for Jenny. He wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and pretend that nothing had happened.

But he could no longer be the instrument of Jenny's destruction.

"Jenny, I know what happened this afternoon. I'm so sorry." He laid the gown across the Queen Anne chair.

"It's all right."

"No. It's not all right." Nothing would ever be all right again. "Let's go into my study so we can talk."

Why didn't he touch her? Forlorn and uncertain, Jenny followed him into the book-lined room. Daniel closed the door.

"Can I get you anything, Jenny?"

How polite. Like a stranger.

"No, thank you." She sat in a deep leather chair. "Are you mad at me, Daniel?"

"Mad at you?" He knelt beside her chair and pressed her hand, palm up, to his lips. His kiss was soft, oh so soft. Jenny closed her eyes. "I could never be mad at you."

His lips lingered on her hand. She was warmed by the nearness of him, warmed and comforted.

Abruptly he let go. Her eyes snapped open, and he walked quickly to the opposite side of his desk

"I shouldn't have run away," she said.

"Anyone would have run away under those circumstances. What my father said about you was cruel and unconscionable."

"Fathers worry about their children."

"Jenny ... Jenny ..." Daniel began to pace the room. "You're too good ... too kind ... too generous."

He rammed his hands into his pockets, for that was the only way he could keep from touching her. When he reached the mantel, he saw the magnificent portrait she'd done of his children. Every line, every brush stroke, was filled with love. Gazing up at the portrait, Daniel remembered the day Jenny had started painting it. She'd been so innocent, so full of joy ... so safe.

And now look at her. She was beleaguered on every side. And all because of him.

"Your gift never ceases to amaze me." He leaned against the mantel, facing her. "You're an extraordinarily talented artist, and no one can take that away."

Fear climbed in Jenny's chest, and she pressed her hand over her heart. Daniel was so remote that he might as well have been in another country.

"I had a lot of time to think while I was driving around Florence, Jenny. What I've done to you can't be undone, but it doesn't have to continue."

Daniel didn't want her anymore. She felt a terrible cry welling up in her throat, and she bit down on her lip to keep from making it. By running away, she'd destroyed everything. Daniel needed a woman, not an irresponsible child.

Slowly Jenny removed her engagement ring. Daniel's grandmother's ring. How she had loved it.

It stuck on her knuckle, and she had to twist hard to get it off. Daniel's eyes were terrible as he watched her. Why didn't he say something?

I love you, Daniel. I love you
. Oh, she longed to say the words, but it would seem like begging. He was giving her a graceful way out. The best thing she could do was take it.

She held the ring tightly in her palm for a moment, memorizing its precious weight. Then she laid it on the table.

Daniel couldn't move. He felt as if a concrete slab were pressed against his chest. She was taking the opening he offered. Who could blame her? Love should be a beautiful dream, not the peril-filled nightmare he'd given her.

I love you, Jenny.

To say the words aloud would be cruel. He couldn't bind her to him with love words and love sighs, then continue to expose her to the thoughtless cruelty of his high-pressure world. He had to let her go.

His Jenny. His angel. His life.

Before she turned to go, she regarded him with her solemn blue eyes. He fell into their center, tumbled through the brightness until he was drowning in love.

Fingernails bit into flesh as he squeezed his hands into fists. To feel her lips upon his once more, to touch her satin skin, to feel her close around him in sweet, torturous clenches—that would be heaven.

His heaven and her hell.

"Good-bye, Daniel." Even her pronounced limp could not destroy her dignity and grace. At the door she turned. "Please tell the children I will always love them."

Oh, God. His children. How could he ever tell his children they'd lost Jenny?

"I will, Jenny."

In the doorway she hesitated. He couldn't bear to tell her good-bye.

Walk away, Jenny. Walk away. Quickly while I can still let you go
.

The door closed softly behind her. He picked up the ring and held it in his fist.

"I love you, Jenny," he whispered. "I'll always love you."

He pressed the ring to his lips, then he sat in Jenny's chair and stared, dry-eyed, at the portrait.

Outside his study Jenny leaned her head against the door. "I will always love you, Daniel," she whispered.

Gathering her courage, Jenny walked away, past the kitchen where they'd baked cookies with the children, past the dining room where they'd shared so many happy meals.

She glanced up the winding staircase. Daniel's bedroom was up there somewhere. She'd never even had a chance to see it. Never had a chance to share his bed.

When she reached the hall and saw her wedding gown, she reached out and her hands sank into the cool satin folds. How happy her dreams had been ... and how foolish. The gown slipped from her fingers, and she left it hanging carelessly across the chair. She wouldn't be needing it anymore.

The front door felt so heavy, she could barely push it open. Her entire body felt broken, shattered into a million tiny pieces.

Outside, a sudden summer storm caught Jenny by surprise. She stood on the front doorstep with the wind whipping her hair and the rain lashing her body. Driving home was going to be difficult. She'd have to be careful, that was all.

 o0o

"Jenny!"

Daniel's voice slashed through her like a knife, and her heart lay bleeding in her chest . Slowly she turned back. The lights from the house poured over him as he ran toward her.

"Jenny, wait"

Had he come to tell her everything was all right? Had he come to give back her dream?

"You can't drive in this storm."

"I'll be careful."

He was beside her now. Gently he took her arm.

"Please, Jenny. Stay."

She wanted to stay more than anything in the world. She wanted to stay forever.

"I'll stay," she said. "At least until the storm is over."

Holding on to her elbow, he led her back inside. Neither of them looked at the wedding gown abandoned in the hallway.

"You're soaked," Daniel said as he escorted her back to his study.

"I'm just a little wet."

"You'll get sick"

"It's summer. The rain is warm."

"I'll get you some dry clothes."

"I don't want any."

They didn't look at each other when they talked. Neither of them could bear the pain. The study door clicked shut behind them, and at last Daniel turned toward Jenny. Her rain-soaked clothes clung to her body in delicious ways, and he almost reeled with desire. Clenching his jaw hard against the passion that rocked him, he poured her a brandy.

"Drink this." Her fingertips burned his where they touched. He hurried toward the door.

"Daniel... where are you going?"

"To get you some dry clothes."

Left alone in the study, she took a large drink of brandy. It sent little trails of fire shooting along her nerve endings, but it did absolutely nothing to dull her pain.

The house was quiet except for the rain beating against the windowpanes and the massive clock that ticked off the hours. Everybody would be in bed, dreaming their peaceful dreams.

Jenny remembered the brave words she'd said to Gwendolyn the day she'd met Daniel.

"Dreaming won't hurt," she whispered. Her voice echoed in the empty study.

She'd been wrong. She'd forgotten who she was and what she was. She'd been foolish and unrealistic, dreaming dreams that never had a chance of coming true.

But if she had it to do all over again, she'd do the same thing. Her memories were worth the pain.

The door opened, and Daniel came through carrying a large man's robe and man's shirt in his hands.

"I hope these will do."

"Thank you." The wonderful scent that was uniquely his clung to the fibers.

"While I was upstairs, I turned down the guest bed for you."

"I'm not staying."

"It's too late to drive home, even if the rain stops."

"I don't need you to take care of me." Liar, liar, pants on fire.

"I know you can take care of yourself. You were doing it very well before I came along."

 She hated the way he looked, bone-tired and defeated.

"I'll stay, Daniel."

"I promise you, Jenny... no harm will come to you."

Chapter Thirteen

Daniel's guest bedroom looked as if it had never been used. Furnished with heavy antiques, it was austere and uninviting. Jenny lay in the big bed, hugging Daniel's shirt to her body. She would have taken down the heavy draperies and put a huge green plant by the window. If she'd married Daniel, she'd have put bright pillows on the bed and chairs, and simple oils on the wall.

She heard Daniel's footsteps in the hallway. He paused briefly outside her door, then hurried on.

I promise you, Jenny. No harm will come to you.

Oh, Daniel
. She turned her face into the pillow. Their love had been so beautiful. How could it vanish in such a short time?

Somewhere down the hallway she heard a door open and shut. Daniel was in his bedroom now ... alone.

Jenny tossed and turned, bunching his shirt under her in an uncomfortable wad. She sat up and turned on the bedside lamp.

She straightened the shirt, then snapped off the light and lay back down. Exhaustion caught up with her, and she dozed.

Rain beat a steady rhythm against her windows. Lightning streaked the sky and thunder rumbled. Jenny came awake suddenly, filled with a sense of urgency so overwhelming, she could barely breathe.

She put on Daniel's robe and went in search of him.

Daniel sat in the dark, staring in the direction of the portrait. The door to his study eased open, and he started from his chair.

"Daniel?"

Jenny was hardly more than a shadow in the doorway. Dwarfed by his robe, she glided toward him, her bare feet soundless on the hardwood floors.

"Jenny, what are you doing up?"

"I forgot something, Daniel. Something very important."

She was standing so close that he could reach out and touch her. Daniel prayed for strength to resist.

"What is it, Jenny?"

"I forgot to tell you that I love you." Silent screams ripped through him. "I'm not trying to win you back, Daniel. I know it's over. But I want you to know that I'll always love you."

The stillness in the room was complete. Above the folds of the dark robe, her face and eyes were luminous. Jenny. His angel in disguise.

Prickles danced along the back of his neck, and muscles bunched in tight cords along his shoulder blades. He held tight to the arms of his chair, afraid he'd reach out to her if he weren't anchored.

Silently she turned to leave. His robe trailed behind her, swooshing softly on the polished floor.

"Jenny..."

She stopped, made a half turn. The rain had stopped, and the moon had broken through the clouds. His oversized clothes had slid from one shoulder, and a pale sliver of moonlight illuminated her skin.