The Way You Make Me Feel (22 page)

Her words cut through him. Looking at her precious face, he knew he had never wanted anything or anybody so much as he wanted her now. He groaned because fantasies of her lying under and over him, teasing him with her lush body and winning ways were hitting him with cyclonic force and he could do nothing about them.

She frowned. “What's wrong? You look like you're in pain.”

“Yeah,” he said softly. “You'll never know how much. Stevie, I'm moving to your house with you to take care of you.”

“I can get a nurse.”

He shook his head vehemently. “I
want
to. You know I want to.”

Stevie sighed. “I know you want to because you're that kind of man.”

“Besides, just because there's a lull doesn't mean you're not still in danger. That hit night before last proves that. Detective Rollins will be coming around again to talk with you. I'm sure they're all over this case.”

“I know.”

“So I go with you. That's settled.”

As angry as she was with him, she found herself relieved that he'd want to move back with her. He always made her feel so safe.

“Something else. I'm getting you a full-time bodyguard and I won't take no.”

She thought for a moment. “Okay. I guess it's about time, but I like being free. As much as I like Lester and the other three guys who go on tour with me, I like being on my own. I'm a private person.”

“I know you are.”

Company began drifting in around one, just after the less-than-tasty hospital lunch. Her first visitors for the day were Jake and his bodyguard. Jake held an armful of flowers.

“Got hit, did you, girl?” Jake's face was grim.

Stevie didn't answer. Damien had gone to the cafeteria to get her some chocolate milk.

“These are for you.” He laid the big bouquet on the bed.

The two men eased their bulk into chairs and Jake simply stared at her.

She didn't thank him. She wanted neither his flowers nor his company.

“I see your arm's bandaged, but you don't look any worse for wear. What happened?”

“It's not open for discussion, Jake. Maybe you already know what happened.”

Jake shook his head vehemently. “No way, babe. Leave me out of this. I want you silent, not dead.”

“Dead's one way of silencing me.”

She said this as Damien came in the door, stopped short and stared at Jake. Jake spoke. Damien didn't. Damien handed her the carton of milk with the straw and she thanked him, smiling. Damien looked at the flowers, picked them up and put them on a table.

“Hey, I took a lot of time selecting these blossoms and you haven't even thanked me.”

Very coolly, Stevie thanked him.

“Babe,” Jake said plaintively, “I wish you'd get it out of your head that I want to hurt you. I don't wanna steal Steele's thunder, but I love you. Always will. You were mine first. I'd never hurt you.”

But Stevie knew Jake to be a consummate liar and she was unmoved. He seemed to settle in for a long visit and she hated having him there. A nurse came in and checked on her, took the flowers to put into a vase.

“Hell, you've got almost as many flowers as you had in Atlanta,” Jake said. “I saw that spread in the paper on you. Great stuff. You're gonna be right back where you were. Stevie, you're the best there is. I always said it.”

“Thank you.” She thought about something then and the lie came effortlessly. “I have some tests scheduled, so I have to get ready for them.”

He gave no indication at first that he heard her, then he roused. “Sure thing. I was set to jawbone with you awhile, but I'll be back.” He grasped her hand, squeezed it. “Now you take care of yourself.” He turned to Damien, said fiercely, “And
you
take care of her. The morning paper said you two were on the road early in the morning. How come?”

“It's really none of your business,” Damien shot back. “As the lady says, there're tests to be run, so if you'll excuse us.”

“Yeah, sure thing,” Jake said, getting up slowly. “Like I said, I'll be back. I know how much you like chocolates and I'll bring you Godivas next time. A big box. I wasn't sure what shape you were in.” He grinned. “The way I see it, you're in great shape.”

After Jake had left, Damien pulled up a chair and Stevie thought, I'm still comfortable with him. I could kill him, but I know what led to this. If I left him and married again or had a lover and Damien wanted me, would I give in to him? I don't know. I just know I still love him so much it hurts and I can't turn that love off suddenly.

It was an hour later that Whip came, bearing only himself. Stevie asked about his mother and he told her it had been a false alarm. A false alarm, she thought sadly. If Whip hadn't thought his mother was ill, this would never have happened. But better now than later.

“Hey, man, how're you doing?” Whip asked Damien with a conspiratorial wink.

“I'm fine, thank you,” Damien answered coolly.

Whip cleared his throat. “Hell, no use pretending. Honi tells me everything and she told me what happened. Liquor's a bitch, ain't it? Well, it's not like you and Honi don't have a history and she's a hottie, all right. What man in his right mind could turn that down?”

Damien started to say something, but Stevie cut in. “If you don't mind, I'd prefer not to discuss this with you, Whip. Not now. Not ever.”

Whip's light-brown skin flushed red and he stammered, looked down. “Yeah, sure. We all know each other and we know what the entertainment world is like. Sexual musical-chair games going on all the time. That's the part I like best.” Only then did he ask about Stevie's injuries.

“I'm doing fine, thank you,” she said.

“Well, that's a relief. I was worried. Honi was plenty upset when she heard you'd been hit. She's crazy about Damien, like you know, but she's got a heart and she doesn't want anything to happen to you.”

Like hell!
Stevie thought acidly. With her out of the way, Honi would have a clear field.

Whip seemed uncomfortable then, and before Stevie could tell him the same lie she'd told Jake about tests to be performed, he left.

“What do you really think of Whip?” Stevie asked Damien.

“That he puts the
callow
in the term
callow youth
. Whip's mouth will get him in trouble one day. He adores his mother, is an only child, and it looks right now as if Honi is his best friend. I'm sorry for them both.”

They played a game of Scrabble and he let her win. Damien was an excellent player. Nick and Jessi and their kids would be back late that afternoon for a long visit and Stevie looked forward to that. She was talking quietly with Damien when something compelled her to look up and Detective Rollins and his petite blond wife stood in the open doorway. A big grin split his face.

“Don't kill me for not coming by again like I promised,” he said jovially.

Stevie laughed. “I hadn't planned to. How are you, detective? And Mrs. Detective?”

The effervescent Eileen Rollins came to the bedside, bent and hugged Stevie. “You look just great and I'm glad.”

“Yeah, you do look really A-OK,” Detective Rollins told her. “Now I'm gonna give you some news that will make you downright glad.”

The couple exchanged greetings with Damien and pulled up chairs. Teasing her, Detective Rollins looked around the room. “Ah, a florist shop. And I saw the article in the paper yesterday. I haven't come by because I've been hellishly busy. You can relax, lady, because we've surely got the creep who's been after you.”

Stevie's mouth opened with delight and Damien sat up straighter.

“Keith Muncy's your mad dog, like I've largely thought from the beginning. I'm going to digress. The note tossed on Damien's lawn we couldn't trace, of course. The fax to Diamond Point was sent from a training school in a small town in Mississippi. We traced it, but couldn't definitely identify the sender.

“The phone call came from a pay phone in New Orleans on Bourbon Street. I was pretty sure that it would be a pay phone, but again we traced it. I thought this all pointed to McGowan. It's not Muncy's style. I still think that. Now, here's what you want to hear. A few days ago an informant told us that Keith had bragged about killing Bretta and said he meant to get you, too. The guy had been too scared to talk.

“I've been working around the clock. I found out after you were hit that Muncy rented a big car for a week. His lie when we contacted him was that he was going to Memphis for the week. He knows damned well he's on probation and isn't to leave the area without permission. He said he just thought he could get away with it. Now listen to this. The car was in Muncy's garage and an examination of the right fender showed he had hit something. He said the dent was there when he got the car, but rental agencies don't let cars out in that condition.”

Detective Rollins cleared his throat and took a deep breath. “Then Muncy got rattled and said he'd hit a deer—on the same side Damien was hit by when he pushed you out of the way.”

Stevie felt flooded with relief.

“He's on his way back to prison for breaking parole. A man has come forward who heard Muncy and Bretta arguing bitterly the night before she was killed. The guy said Muncy threatened to kill her and he threatened you. Muncy's in jail now, and we're wringing him out. By the time I'm through with him, he'll be glad to confess. So you can rest easy now. Feel better?”

Stevie felt the tension go out of her. “Thank you so much,” she told the couple, her throat half-closed with emotion.

Detective Rollins grinned. “So you see why I haven't been around again.”

T
wo days later, at her house, Stevie lay in bed. Reluctantly coming awake, she glanced at the clock radio beside her bed—11:00 a.m. She had intended to sleep late, but not this late. Buried again under the covers she considered just spending the rest of the day in bed. She felt well, but the accident had taken it out of her. At a soft knock on the door, she called, “Come in,” and Damien entered.

“How're you doing?”

“Oh, so much better. How're
you?
”

“I'll survive, I'm afraid. I checked on you from time to time and you were tossing at first, then you simmered down. I've got your favorite breakfast, so take a shower.” He bit his bottom lip. “How about if I eat with you?”

“Sure.” They were being so civilized, she thought. She didn't look forward to months of this until the baby was born. And then? They'd cross that bridge when they came to it, she told herself firmly.

“I'll be back in a little while,” he told her.

She lay still after he'd gone out. Of course, it was different with him. He was truly contrite and doing everything he could to make it up to her. But the wounds to her heart were no less than the wounds to her body. She was convinced that it was because he still loved Honi that the woman was so sure of herself with him. If Honi had drugged his drink, it was because she knew she'd get what she wanted. If they hadn't made love it was only because they'd overestimated his prowess.

At any rate, Honi had gotten what she wanted. One thing Stevie was absolutely certain of: Honi had
planned
to be in Stevie's bed. She had no way of knowing that Stevie would come home unexpectedly, but she would have left incriminating personal things behind for Stevie to find, and that she knew for sure.

Sighing, she went into the bathroom and stripped. Looking down at her bandaged thigh, she grimaced. It hurt very little, but the wound was bad. She slipped a plastic sleeve onto that leg, spread on some gardenia bath gel and stepped into the stinging triple-headed shower. The force of the water revived her and she breathed deeply. Looking at her thigh again, she thought about the plastic surgery that lay ahead of her when the leg healed. It wasn't something she looked forward to.

She shampooed her hair in the shower. A hairdresser had come to the hospital and cut it short and she liked its ease of handling. The cap of curly-kinky whorls flattered her face enormously and Damien loved it. She thought then she was going to have to get used to not depending on what Damien loved and didn't love.

Blotting herself dry on the huge bath sheet, she looked at her body in the full-length mirror. Then she took off the plastic sleeve. She was so lucky. If it hadn't been for Damien, she could have been killed. Keith Muncy was a monster. She and Bretta had often discussed this.

“I'm terrified of him,” Bretta had often said. “Keith's a devil and I'm his favorite whipping woman. Unless I'm lucky, he'll kill me one day.” And it seemed Keith had fulfilled her friend's prediction.

In the bedroom, she spent a long time deciding on a soft rose nylon tricot gown and robe, one of her favorite sets. And one of Damien's, she thought. Was she trying to please him? No, she told herself sharply, she was pleasing herself, not him. Trouble was, she didn't believe it.

She heard the dumbwaiter down the hall, and in minutes Damien knocked and came in with a tray of food, then with another tray. With the trays set down, he whistled. “You look beautiful. I love your hair that way. But then I've said that before.” His voice was husky and she thanked him, irritated that she was so pleased.

“I fixed this for you,” he said gently. “Mrs. Patton gave me a hand. She said to tell you good morning and she hopes you're feeling as good as you felt yesterday.”

Stevie smiled then, looking at the golden waffles with thin strips of bacon cooked in, the pot of strawberry syrup, scrambled eggs with sharp cheese and scallions, and hot buttered grits.

“It's all so colorful,” she told him. “You'd make a good chef if you get tired of being a record mogul.”

“You're my inspiration.”

She didn't reply to that. She picked up the big glass of grape juice and drank it without stopping. The breakfast was delectable and she ate heartily. She hadn't realized how hungry she was. They talked little, but he glanced at her from time to time. He wanted her back, no doubt about it, but could she ever forgive him and take him back?

When they had finished, he stacked the dishes and took them back to the dumbwaiter, then came back. She lay propped up on pillows and he sat on the edge of the bed and said without preliminary, “If the shoe were on the other foot, I'd take you on faith, Stevie. Even if I caught you
in flagrante
with another man, I'd forgive you if things were with you the way they were with me.”

His words nearly knocked the breath from her, and she looked at him. It came unbidden that she had come awake the night before and been keenly aware of him in the room next to her and her body had begun to burn. Heat had crept into her nether parts and she had fought to keep herself from going to him. Then, a little later, he had looked in on her and she had wanted to call to him. She sighed. It was being pregnant that did this. She laughed to herself. She wasn't all that pregnant. She chided herself that there was no such thing as just a little bit pregnant. She knew he spoke the truth and he deserved an answer.

“How can I explain it?” she began. “It's not just a simple matter of your being in bed with
any
woman. I'm not going to keep saying Honi's the love of your life because you already know that…”

He raised a hand. “Honi
was
the love of my life—before you. Even before I realized how much I love you, the flame had died. I told you why I kept letting her come on to me. It was payback for what she did. Now I know how childish that was. If you could only find it in your heart, my love, to forgive me. God, I've said I'll never hurt you and I have—badly—and I'm sorry. Baby, I think you know how sorry I am.”

Last night's feelings were in her heart again and the heat was back in her loins. Could he tell? To fight it, she laughed a little. “Give me time,” she said.

He took her hand and squeezed it. “Take what time you need, but I'll be praying all the time. I love you, Stevie. Really love you. Just remember that.”

She only nodded. He was hard to resist, even if she did want to kill him.

“My day,” she said then, “or rather my afternoon. Oh, yes, thank you for that wonderful breakfast.”

“You're very welcome.”

“Well, this afternoon, there's my appointment with Dr. Winslow, which you were kind enough to say you'll take me to. Then drop me on Music Row by my favorite record shop and I'll pick up Mariah Carey's and Sade's latest albums and I'll take a taxi home from there.”

“I'll take you both places and bring you home. Muncy may be in jail, but Jake's still out there.”

“I talked with Jessi today and she told me Jake's gone down to Memphis. He stopped by on his way.” She crossed her arms over her head. “Oh Lord, I love being free again. Damien?”

She wasn't sure she should discuss it with him. Songwriting was such a personal thing. “Another song's been going through my mind. I'm going to test it when I sing again at Club Insomnia.”

“Oh? How about singing it for me?”

She closed her eyes. Her muse didn't care that she and Damien weren't lovers anymore. The muse pulled out all the stops. She was used to sharing her music with him and even if she killed him, she'd sing it on his grave. Her eyes got hot with tears then, the way her body got hot with pure lustful desire. She cleared her throat and began.

Damien nodded, his eyes half-closed. “I like it.”

She hesitated a long while. “I feel a little stupid singing it. It's a deep love song and we may never go that route. But I trust your judgment like no one else's, and I know you'll be fair.”

He nodded again. “When did this song first come to mind?”

“Oddly enough, my last day in the hospital. It's been nattering at me, demanding to be born since we've been home. There are times when being an artist gets in my way.”

He was dead serious then. “Bodies and muses have a way of knowing what's best for them.” And he thought his body knew what was best for him: her. His fantasies were haunting him and he wondered if she'd ever let him through again.

She licked her bottom lip. “Well, I'm embarrassed, but here goes. I've just got the first verse, but the rest is coming in fast.

She stopped and he looked at her, his heart in his eyes, and said, “Doesn't that tell you something?”

“About us?”

“Yes.”

“It's just a song. Songs don't know what's going on. They can be silly.”

“
Love
is never silly. That song is going to be one of your best, but ‘The Way You Make Me Feel' will always be my favorite.”

She felt sadistic then, remembering what a famous psychiatrist had said, that love is not the absence of sadism and hostility—the more you loved, the more you could be hurt—that it is the absence of envy. And Damien envied her nothing. What she had was what
he
had. Her creations were his, too. She groaned inside because she was tangling up, her emotions were insisting on running her life.

“I'm glad you like the song,” she said gently. “I'm going to need to get dressed. The appointment with Dr. Winslow is for one and I've got to stop by and get my thigh examined.”

 

“And how have you been?”

Dr. Winslow's broad face was wreathed with smiles as he continued. “You
look
well. I was out of town when you were hurt and I'm sorry. Did you get my orchid plant?”

“I did and it's beautiful. The note said it's from your collection. Thank you. I'll soon be transplanting it.”

“How are you doing? As I said, you look well.”

Stevie was surprised to find tears behind her eyelids. “I'm doing well so far as the accident is concerned. As for the amnesia, there isn't much I don't remember, but there are other matters.”

They sat in comfortable overstuffed chairs opposite each other. When she was silent so long, he prompted her. “Other matters?”

“Let's talk about the amnesia first.”

“Very well. How's it coming?”

“I haven't needed to see you because it's been coming along so well. I remember almost everything.” She hunched her shoulders without being aware of it. “Everything except that one segment with the whirling orange ball that I'm certain is Bretta's jogging suit and cap. A part of me is terrified of remembering that.”

He nodded. “We said it would take time.”

“And if I never remember, am I to live on with this fear?”

“I think you
will
remember.”

“Dr. Winslow, Detective Rollins thinks Keith Muncy killed Bretta and intended to kill me, but he's back in jail. He broke parole, and they have enough evidence to send him back to prison for Bretta's death, but you know what it's like these days with the courts. You can never be sure. I'm terrified of him.”

“I'm sure you are. And what about Jake?”

“Other than the note, the fax and the phone call, all of which I'm sure he did, he's been quiet. He keeps begging me to go easy on him when I testify against him in October.”

“And will you?”

“No way. I intend to tell the truth, and that's damning enough. I'm not being vindictive.”

“No. I don't think you are.”

Her voice went low then and she told him about her marriage, about Honi and Damien. He looked thoughtful.

“If it weren't for the baby, I'd leave in a split second.”

“You want this child.”

“More than anything. He wants it, too. I told you it's why we married.”

“Had you considered that he's telling the truth? You told me before you were married that you had a relationship based on integrity and respect, that you were physically well-matched and you were both afraid of love.”

“I quickly realized I love—
loved
him.”