When Next We Love (21 page)

Leigh frowned, confused. “What?”

“Richard left a letter for me in his desk. You never found it because you never went through his things. I was in the room that day to look through his phone book—I had forgotten my own number because I never dial it—and I found the note. He knew before he left for the West Coast that he wouldn’t return. He had a disease of the nervous system that would have slowly killed him, crippling him first, and he couldn’t bear to die that way. He didn’t want you to know. He said he had caused you enough pain and that you would be able to cope with an accident—an act of God—better than the truth.”

The paralyzing dullness of shock suddenly receded from Leigh, and the floodgates of pain opened with a shudder and an agonized cry. “Oh, God! Derek! I didn’t know. I didn’t know! Why didn’t he come to me? He knew that I still loved him … that I would have done anything … he could have come to me …”

“Leigh!” Derek’s arms were around her; they held her with infinite tenderness as she sobbed, her tears streaming into the mat of his chest. “Leigh, Richard did know those things. And he did love you—very much. It was that love that wanted to spare you any more grief. It’s all in the letter. He said that you had already suffered enough because of him. When enough time had passed, he wanted you to know.”

He held her for a good hour while she cried, soft tears for the brilliant young man she had loved and hated, for the waste of his life, for the depth of his love for her that he had shown in his way at the end.

Derek mourned with her. Old scars had been cut afresh, they were bleeding again. Yet now they could heal. In a strange way they had given Richard Tremayne back to one another.

Leigh’s tears subsided and Derek gently wiped the dampness from her cheeks. “We go on from here,” he said softly.

She nodded against his strength. “I know.”

“I love you.”

She nodded again.

“I’m still a bastard.”

It was a strangled sound, but close to a chuckle. “I know.”

“We’re both going to make it—together.”

The bedside phone rang shrilly and Derek automatically answered it, his eyes never leaving Leigh. He listened for a moment, then muttered, “Thanks, yes, we’re coming.” Replacing the receiver, he tilted Leigh’s chin again. “Hey! You promised me you could handle this. I’m beside you, and I love you. Are you okay?”

“Yes.” Leigh attempted to smile but her effort fell flat. “Yes, I’m fine.”

“I can cancel the session,” Derek offered, his eyes denoting his obvious concern over her lethargy.

“No … no,” she said faintly.

“Then we have to go. That was James to tell us we’re running very late.”

Leigh rose, feeling like a zombie. “I’ll just hop in the shower.”

Derek retrieved his jeans from where they had landed on the floor the night before and slid them over his long muscled legs. “I’ll hop into my room then.” He grimaced ruefully. “Tonight we’ll pick a room and transfer all of our clothing into one spot.”

Leigh tried for another smile. “Yes.”

Derek walked over to her and enveloped her naked shoulders in his arms, relishing the silky touch of her feminine skin against his. His lips brushed her forehead. “You could say something now, after all I’ve poured out to you. Something like, ‘I love you too.’”

Leigh stared at him, her eyes still saucer-size and glassy. “I do love you, Derek. I have for a long, long time.”

“Did you love me in Atlanta?”

“Yes.” Leigh buried her head into his chest and rubbed her cheek against the coarse red-gold hairs that tickled her nose, “but I didn’t know it then.”

Derek groaned and his frame tautened against hers; his flesh became warmer. “I have to get out of here. We’re going to finish the tracks today, the pictures tomorrow, and then get out of here. I want you all to myself.” He clutched her tightly to him, pulled away and made a hasty retreat.

Leigh walked into the shower, still dazed. What was wrong with her? she wondered. She was shocked by the circumstances surrounding Richard’s death. That was natural. But Derek was right; she couldn’t have changed anything. Still, it was as if a wound had been ripped back open. She had loved Richard; she had been his wife for three years. He should have come to her. Yet in the end he had chosen a strange type of nobility. He had shielded her from pain; he had even made a vague attempt to clear her of the accusations he had made.

She had told Derek that she could handle whatever troubled him. And she could. It was something else that was bothering her, something she couldn’t quite define. There would be time, she told herself philosophically. The man she loved returned her feelings and they would have all the time in the world.

With Derek’s determination behind them, they completed the final tracks by five o’clock. Derek had last-minute details to work out with the photographer so he sent Leigh home with Roger. “If I’m late, don’t wait up. Tomorrow may be hectic.”

Derek was late, very late, but Leigh couldn’t sleep anyway. She prowled the house nervously, chiding herself for not settling down. In the last two days her world had made a marvelous turnabout. She should be as happy and as content as a bird.

“There’s just so much we have left to discuss!” she told herself aloud. “Plans … more admissions and confessions …”

Gravel finally crunched in the driveway and Leigh knew that Derek had returned. She raced across the marble to the. door, eager to greet him now that she had gotten over her initial shock. She had been so cold that morning! And in between all the sadness he had had to relate he had also told her many wonderful things. He had loved her as long as she had loved him. …

The door swung open and Derek’s cat-gold gaze brightened at the sight of her. She had showered and changed into a lingerie set of misty blue gauze, and his frank appraisal and sensuous smile told her that her efforts were approved of and appreciated.

“I told you not to wait up,” he murmured after a deep kiss that stole the breath from both of them, “but I’m glad that you did.”

“We have a lot of lost time to make up for!” Leigh answered, grinning as the now-familiar heat he could produce raced through her limbs. His trim hips instinctively wedged closer to hers, and color suffused her face at the sure proof against her abdomen that she could arouse him as easily as he could her.

“I’m all for making up for lost time!” he breathed to her earlobe, nibbling as he did so. His lips, growing more urgent and demanding as they traveled, moved erotically along her throat and on to the cleavage enticingly displayed by the negligee, Leigh let escape a sigh that might have been a purr as her body responded to his demands with loving skill. “We’re standing in the hallway,” she told him dreamily. “I think we should move. This little scene could seriously endanger James’s sense of dignity should he awaken and stumble upon it.”

Derek lifted his head and laughed, the deep sound that could captivate her a room away. Then she was in his arms and they were moving effortlessly up the stairway. “It’s all real!” Leigh said softly, meeting his smoldering eyes.

“Forever,” Derek replied. He walked on into his own room and they fell to the bed together. No longer the least bit shy or hesitant, Leigh began working at the buttons of his shirt, teasing him with flicking motions of her tongue each inch of the way.

“You are a vixen!” Derek accused, turning the tables as he ripped away the last button and pinned her to the bed. “Now I shall play the tormentor!” He laughed.

His assault on her senses was slow and complete, his own desire held carefully in check as he teased and tantalized every inch of her sleek skin, savoring the fragrant scent, tasting its sweetness, exploring its perfection. His teeth nipped and grazed over her earlobe, finding each little erogenous zone along her nape. The warmth of his breath atone sent thrilling chills flooding through her spine; his touch, purposely designed to torment with arousal and withdrawal, turned those chills to a current of charged electricity.

“I love you,” he murmured, his mouth moving sensuously over her breast. “I’m in heaven when I’m with you. I shall never have my fill of you.”

“I love you,” Leigh panted in return, moaning deeply as his teeth locked over a highly sensitive nipple and rotated gently.

“Like that?” Derek demanded hoarsely.

“Ummmmmm,” Leigh returned breathlessly. “I like everything that you do …” Her voice trailed away with a gasp and her fingers dug into his shoulders as his teeth raked gently down her rib cage to begin a new assault on the hollows of her hips.

“And how about that, my love?”

His query was little more than a choked stream of air, as was her answer, yet they both knew that their murmured words of love could elicit deeper and deeper passion.

Derek’s voice suddenly took on a peculiar note, which faintly surprised Leigh, but she was cocooned within his realm of expert seduction and it was several seconds before his words registered in her mind.

“And you’re all mine, my darling, all mine now. You will never have to look for love from another man again because I will always be there. I shall keep you so happily busy and satisfied you will never have the need …”

Leigh felt as if she had been doused in a tub of ice water.

“What?”

“Nothing, my love.”

Leigh furiously sprang into a sitting position, knocking him aside as she did so.

“What the hell?” Derek demanded, staring at her stunned, his eyes narrowed dangerously.

Leigh didn’t care. The green of her own hazel eyes was blazing like dark jade. “I want you to repeat what you just said.”

“I don’t even know what I just said!”

“Yes, you do!” Tears stung her lids; she knew what had bothered her from earlier in the morning. Derek still didn’t believe
her.
He no longer blamed her for Richard, but he had Richard’s own words to rely on. It was evident that he still thought her capable of shoddy affairs behind someone’s back.

“Dammit, Leigh!” he muttered angrily. “You have to be the only woman in the world who can pick an argument in the middle of making love.”

“I want to hear what you said—slowly and clearly.”

“What difference does it make?”

“How can you say that?” Leigh sputtered. “You talk about commitments but you think the worst of me! Love is trust and … and credibility!”

“What are you talking about?” Derek demanded, growing steadily angrier. “I didn’t say I didn’t trust you!” He scowled darkly. Lifting his arms to her, he commanded, “Come back here!”

“Not when you think—”

“I don’t think anything. What went on between you and Richard and whoever else doesn’t matter. The past is over. You might have had every right to—”

“To what?” Leigh prompted icily.

“To seek whatever comfort you did elsewhere.” Derek impatiently pushed her shoulders back to the bed and straddled her. “I love you. I don’t care. We’re beginning anew,” he continued, his words a husky, mumbled whisper as he resumed his lovemaking, his tongue sliding over her lips and his hands caressing her torso.

“Derek, stop it!” Leigh insisted. She held herself rigid despite the pulsations of sensuous pleasure her body refused to deny. “Stop it!” But he wouldn’t take her protestations seriously. She knew he thought she was playing a feminine game, saying no but meaning yes, wanting to be cajoled into submission.

“Stop—” His lips fell over hers, muffling out the words. Then he was slowly caressing her soft flesh, and she doubted that he would even notice she had pitted all her strength against him …

Then, it didn’t matter. He claimed her with sure, knowing expertise, seducing with each demanding thrust of satin, hurtling her along with him into the escalating whirlpool of magic that she no longer desired to deny.

But she could not glow in the aftermath of their mutual satiation, nor seek the comfort and security and contentment of the arms that attempted to hold her with their usual ease. Despite the yearning she felt to settle back and bask in the simple pleasure of her love, she pulled away from the man who would undoubtedly hold her heart for life.

He groaned; “What now?”

Trying with great difficulty to stay completely calm and voice her words softly, Leigh smoothed back her damp auburn hair and said, “You aren’t paying any attention to me. You think going to bed solves any problem that pops up. I wanted to talk and you—”

“And I forced you to make love?” Derek raised a skeptical brow.

“No,” Leigh said evenly, but she knew her temper was slipping. “I’m not a hypocrite—believe it or not. I love being with you, I love what you do to me, your touch, your scent, everything. You. But that’s not enough. I know. You keep saying nothing matters, that the past is gone. But it matters to me, Derek. It matters very much that you trust me and believe what I say. How can we form any kind of a life together without those basics? I want to tell you—”

“I don’t want to hear about the past!” Derek grated, interrupting her in a sharp command. “Damn! Can’t we just let it rest?”

“No!” She had tried, Lord, she had really tried. Springing from the bed with a furious oath, she stalked for the door, so enraged she completely forgot her state of total undress. Pausing with her fingers clutched around the knob in a white-knuckled grip, she turned back to Derek. “If you think you can listen to me, Mr. Mallory, do it by tomorrow. If not, I’ll be heading back to the Keys and ‘poor Lyle’ by nightfall.”

Derek was silent for a moment and their eyes clashed in a battle of willpower. Leigh would not allow hers to fall.

“I don’t like ultimatums,” Derek finally said coldly. He turned his back on her and sank his head into his pillow.

Shaking with a mixture of rage, pain, and frustration, Leigh threw open the door and flounced into the hall. Suddenly realizing she was as naked as a nymph, she sped toward the door that led to her own room. It was highly improbable that anyone would be roaming the halls at such an hour, but she still felt ridiculous on top of everything else.

But shades of the past were indeed engulfing her. The door was locked.

“Impossible!” Leigh muttered. She rattled the knob again fruitlessly. The door refused to budge. Sinking to the floor, she berated herself for having inherited an Irish temperament that didn’t allow room for common sense. When walking out on someone, it was wisest to do it clothed.