Authors: Heather Graham
His invitation caught her mid-step and she almost tripped with the shock of it. Turning slowly, she composed her features to nonchalance. “If you like. It does seem to be a pleasant night.”
Leigh was stiff and Derek relaxed as he casually put an arm around her waist and led her first to the game room, where he gallantly poured two glasses of wine, and then outside, past the pool and patio and out to the dock. They sat on the planks and sipped their wine while they watched the brilliant stars in the night sky play upon the water. Derek began to rub gentle fingers beneath the hair on Leigh’s neck.
“I have to talk to you,” he said softly.
She looked at him with tremulous eyes. His face was gentle, the line of his mouth curved. She felt herself lost in the golden-brown hue of his eyes, lost and frightened should she be misreading the tender concern she found in their depths.
He pulled her more closely to him. “What I have to say to you isn’t going to be simple. There’s a lot that you don’t know, a lot that I have to rectify with myself. And it will take time. I don’t want any interruptions, I don’t want to be worried about schedules or broken strings on guitars. But in a few days we’ll be all wrapped up. Will you bide with my temper till then? And then, will you listen to me with an open mind? Part of what I have to tell you is going to be painful, and you may have to adapt to it as I did.”
Leigh stared at him and nodded, the commitment of her agreement evident in the shimmering tears that specked her lashes. He hadn’t said that he loved her; he’d promised no future for them. She had simply to trust in her love, but that was enough. He had asked her to wait, and she would gladly wait forever.
They didn’t speak anymore, but sat by the water contentedly together, feeling the soft ocean breeze, listening to the gentle lap of the tide. Surely, Leigh thought, had she died and gone to heaven she could not have been more blissful and secure.
The chill in the breeze slowly increased as the moon rose full above them. Leigh shuddered involuntarily and Derek immediately suggested they go back to the house. He kissed her lightly as they reached her door, but she couldn’t let him go. Her arms curled tightly around his neck and she clung to him.
“Don’t go,” she whispered desperately. She couldn’t bear him to take away his wonderful warmth; leave when she had just found him.
“Leigh …” he began in a groan, holding her hands still. “I told you, there’s so much you have to know. I have no right—”
“I don’t care,” she murmured in a choked cry to his chest. “I don’t care. And I do know that it’s right when we’re together.”
Whatever demons he fought, he was only human. In the blink of an eye the door crashed open and she was in his arms. He whispered her name over and over with a soft and yearning desire that echoed lovingly of emotion deeper than the spoken word.
Both meant to play love’s old game, to tease and to torment. Yet neither could: Sprawled upon the bed, they fumbled with one another’s clothing, ripping rather than removing. The month apart had been long, too long. When their clothes were shed, their arms immediately entwined, their lips met with insatiable, feverish hunger.
For a second Derek pulled back, and in that time his eyes devoured her. They were a flame within themselves, and as they quickly roamed over her, Leigh felt her flesh begin to heat. Then his eyes met hers. They asked a mute question, which she answered with a strangled sigh, hurling herself back into his arms. Her thirst for him had to be quenched. She arched herself to him, relishing the feel of her soft breasts crushing into his chest, the grinding of their hips in instant and mutual need.
“Derek, my love,” she pleaded.
He needed no further urging. “Oh, honey,” he groaned, “you don’t know what you do to me.”
But she did. As he shifted to take her, she opened to him like a bursting sunrise, and they melded together like molten lead. They were an inferno, feasting as if starved, and the ultimate consummation of their love burned with a fire more fierce than the sun’s and left them with a satisfaction and togetherness more thorough than the meeting of the sky and earth.
And as Leigh slept in the serenity of her lover’s arms, she knew she would ask no more of life than the heaven he gave her.
L
EIGH SLEPT FITFULLY THROUGH
the night, waking often to assure herself that Derek was still there beside her. He was, of course, his limbs entangled with hers, his arms possessively around her. She awakened fully to the bright light of early morning to find herself still curled comfortably along his length, his easy breathing in her ear, his head resting gently upon the auburn pillow of her hair.
Derek awoke as she gently tried to free her hair. A slow, contented smile curved his lips and highlighted his lazy golden eyes. He stretched long fingers to caress her cheek. “Morning, love,” he whispered softly.
“Morning,” she replied, subduing a sob that suddenly choked in her throat. He couldn’t really be hers. Not this golden giant who had sworn revenge with savage arrogance and then made her a prisoner of his heart while arousing undreamed of passions with his magnificent body. She clutched his hand and kissed it feverishly and rolled atop his deep bronze chest. “Oh, Derek …” she murmured into his neck. She almost said, “I love you,” but the words caught on her tongue. Their relationship was so very fragile! Ghosts still lay between them, ghosts that could easily destroy them. Not just the tangible spirit of Richard, but the other clouds he had created … doubt, mistrust, and fear.
“What is it, Leigh?” Derek asked gently in return, stroking her hair in a comforting gesture. “Talk to me.”
She shook her head. “Not yet. Just hold me.”
He did, and then he made love to her, slowly, sweetly. And when she shuddered and lay happily content in his arms, he continued to caress lightly the silkiness of her skin with a tenderness that she knew belonged uniquely to her alone. She gave him a dazzling smile.
“Derek, I have to know what’s going on,” she said, secure in his arms. “Something happened the day we left my house—something that changed everything. I need to talk to you, Derek, but I need you to be honest with me too.”
His cat eyes were drawing a film, a shield, closing off from her as she spoke. “Leigh—” he began.
“Don’t!” she protested. “Don’t shut me out! Can’t you see! We’ve been doing just that to one another all this time. Trust me, at least this once. Whatever it is, I can handle it. I really can, when you’re beside me.”
Derek was no longer touching her. His hands were clasped behind his head and he stared up at the ceiling. “We have to be at the studio in less than two hours.”
“A lot can be said in two hours.” Leigh knew she was pushing him, but fear drove her on. She had thought she could wait, take whatever golden moments were theirs and cherish them for just that—beautiful spaces of time that could linger forever in memory.
But she couldn’t. She was terrified of whatever it was that lurked in Derek’s mind. Life had taught her the bitter lesson that love could turn sour, and if she stayed with Derek any longer, basking in the depth of emotion she felt for him, only to have it all snatched away, she would never survive the blow. Within her soul she would be a cripple. They had to straighten things out. She had to know that he loved her, and that his love was a commitment.
“We have a tendency to argue when we talk,” Derek finally said, still watching the ceiling.
“Damn!” Leigh muttered irritably. She was a nervous wreck and he was being completely evasive. “We can’t go on not talking.”
“You’re already arguing.”
“I’m not!” Leigh exploded.
Derek whipped around with a strange savagery and planted his weight over Leigh’s with his fingers gripped into her shoulders and his golden gaze burning into hers. Tension worked tersely in his facial features and the veins corded and pulsed in the length of his neck. Leigh shivered; she had forgotten the power that he was composed of, the strength, determination, and will that lay coiled at all times within the sinewed frame she so loved.
“All right, Leigh,” he enunciated crisply, “I’ll talk. But you won’t walk out if you don’t like what I’ve got to say. We’ve made a commitment. It isn’t on paper yet, and it isn’t legally binding. But we’ve made it, and you know it as well as I do.”
Leigh stared into flaming golden eyes and nodded blankly. He was saying things she wanted to hear; why was his voice so intense and frightening? Didn’t he understand that all she needed to know was that he loved her and believed in her and wanted to spend the rest of his life with only her?
As abruptly as he had pounced upon her, he moved away. His movements were erratic as he paced about the room, totally unself-conscious of his nudity, and as splendid and regal as a golden god of ancient times.
“Richard didn’t have an accident,” he told her matter-of-factly. “He drove off that cliff on purpose. I talked to him the night before and I knew he was very upset about something. He kept mentioning ‘her’ and I naturally assumed he meant you. Then he started talking about the past. When we were kids growing up together. And he talked about meeting you and how the days we had spent with your dad by the sea had been the best in his life. He kept repeating over and over again that he had ‘missed the boat somewhere.’”
Derek stopped his pacing and looked at Leigh. Her eyes were as round as saucers, her face frozen in shock. She had thought herself beyond pain from Richard, but she wasn’t. He had killed himself. She hadn’t seen what turmoil raged behind his cool aloofness; she hadn’t been there when he really needed her. No matter what had gone on between them, she should have been able to help him.
“I told you this wouldn’t be easy.” Derek’s harsh voice broke through her remorse and the terrible guilt that washed over her in waves of agony. “But hear me out.” He drew a deep, ragged breath and turned to the window, unable to comfort her until he had finished. “I blamed you. I blamed myself for not realizing how depressed he was when we talked. His last request was that I watch out for you. I laughed it off. I told him that you were a survivor and that he would fall in love again. We had all been in and out of love a dozen times.
“He told me good-bye and thanks. The next thing I heard was that he was dead. I wanted to strangle you. He was more than my partner, more than my friend. He was my brother. All those years when we were kids, when parental love meant boarding schools and an unspared rod, Richard and I had each other.”
Derek’s tone went very soft. “We were both mesmerized when we met you coming from the ocean like an innocent Venus. Everything about you was fresh and wonderful. The love and respect in your home were totally alien to anything we had ever known. Richard was quick. I remember how awed you were when you realized who you were marrying. But it was he who had found something special, and he knew it. He just didn’t know how to handle it.”
Leigh allowed her dazed eyes to focus on Derek. He was watching her now, and his eyes held only compassion. None of it made sense. He said he wanted to kill her, then he said that she was special. She didn’t understand, but she was too numb to care.
With an impatient oath Derek strode back across the room and gripped both her hands. “Dammit, Leigh! I told you this wasn’t the time to go into all this and I’m making a terrible mess of it all. Listen to me! Pay attention to me! Now I’ve made you feel responsible and that’s not the case. I’m trying to make you understand the things I felt and why I behaved the way I did.”
“I’m listening,” Leigh managed in a whisper.
“I loved you even when you were my best friend’s wife. I knew I couldn’t have you, so I set you up on a little pedestal. I could be your friend, and I could be near you. I never allowed myself to think about you and Richard in bed … in one another’s arms. I told myself that one day I would find a woman like you, a woman I wanted to have my children, to live and grow with together, to shelter, to come to. You were perfection to me, your marriage heaven.
“When Richard began to tell me you were running around and wanted out, I couldn’t accept it. I had to mask my feelings with hate and anger. After he died, I barely made the funeral. I swore I’d never see you again.
“Then came Atlanta. I wanted it to be you; I was afraid that it had been you. It was gnawing me apart and I had to find out.” He ran a finger over her cheek, reverently tracing the fine lines as the timbre of his voice went deeper in a husky whisper. “And I had to have you again. I convinced myself that anything I did would be fair because you deserved whatever I could do for all that had happened to Richard. I knew that I could find a way to trap you if I could just get you here, and perversely, I really was interested in ‘Henry the Eighth.’ Then, when you came, I was a mess! I loved you, I hated you, I wanted you. It was almost a sickness. I needed to be close to you, to understand you, but I couldn’t stop myself from striking out, and I couldn’t let you go until I had come to terms with myself.”
Leigh watched the strong tan fingers that were curled around her own. Derek was telling her that he loved her. She should be ecstatic. She knew now beyond a doubt now that he wasn’t another Richard, that his desire was also for the love and security of a total commitment that she craved.
But she wasn’t ecstatic. She was chilled to the bone. Richard still lay between them, now more than ever. She had indirectly failed him and led to his suicide, and no matter what Derek said, in his heart he would never forgive her. She’d have to learn to forgive herself.
“Why are you telling me this now?” she asked thickly. “We haven’t got a chance in the world—”
“I’m telling you now because you insisted!” Derek grated, dropping her hands to grip her chin and bring her lifeless eyes to his. “And you could help a bit! I’m botching this entire thing because you’re not giving me a single response.”
“What do I say? Yes, I didn’t understand Richard’s frame of mind and so I did nothing? What will that do? Nothing. We both have to learn to live with it—”
“That’s the point I haven’t gotten to yet. You were not in the least responsible for Richard’s actions. I know that for a fact, but even if I didn’t, I would have realized by now that none of us can prevent a thing like that.”