Beloved
Authors: Diana Palmer
Tags: #Romance, #General, #Contemporary, #Historical, #Fiction
BELOVED
To Debbie and the staff at Books Galore,
in
wonderful readers there and in
Prologue
Simon Hart sat
alone in the second row of the seats reserved for family. He wasn't really kin
to John Beck, but the two had been
best
friends since college. John had been his only real friend. Now
he was dead, and there
she
sat like a dark angel, her titian hair veiled in black,
pretending to mourn the husband she'd cast off
like a worn coat after only a month of marriage.
He crossed his long legs, shifting uncomfortably against
the
pew. He had an ache where his left arm ended
just at the elbow.
The sleeve was pinned, because he
hated the prosthesis that dis
guised his handicap.
He was handsome enough even with only
one arm—he
had thick, wavy black hair on a leonine head, with
dark eyebrows and pale gray eyes. He was tall and well
built,
a
dynamo of a man;
former state attorney general of
nationally known trial lawyer, in addition to
being one of the
owners of the Hart ranch properties,
which were worth millions.
He and his brothers
were as famous in cattle circles as Simon was
in legal circles. He was filthy rich and looked it. But the money
didn't
make up for the loneliness. His wife had died in the accident that took his
arm. It had happened just after
Tira's
marriage
to John Beck.
Tira
had nursed him in the hospital, and gossip had run
rampant.
154
Beloved
Diana Palmer
155
Simon was alluded to as the
cause.of
the
divorce. Stupid idea, he
thought angrily,
because he wouldn't have had
Tira
on a bun with
catsup. Only a week after the divorce, she was seen
everywhere
with playboy Charles Percy, who was
still her closest companion.
He was probably her
lover, as well, Simon thought with sup
pressed fury. He liked Percy no better than he liked
Tira
.
Strange
that Percy hadn't come to the funeral,
but perhaps he did have
some sense of
decency, however small.
Simon
wondered if
Tira
realized how he really felt about
her.
He had to be pleasant to her; anything
else would have invited
comment. But
secretly, he despised her for what she'd done to
John.
Tiira
was cold inside—selfish and cold
and unfeeling. Oth
erwise, how could she have turned John out after a
month of
marriage, and then let him go to
work on a dangerous oil rig in
the
there
this week, in a tragic
accident, having drowned in the freezing, churning waters before he could be
rescued. Simon couldn't help
thinking that John wanted to die. The
letters he'd had from his
friend were full
of his misery, his loneliness, his isolation from
love and happiness.
He glared in her direction, wondering how John's father
could
bear to sit beside her like that, holding her slender hand as if
he
felt as sorry for her as he felt for
himself at the loss of his son,
his
only child. Putting on a show for the public, he concluded irritably, He was
pretending
,
to keep people from gossiping.
Simon stared at the closed casket and winced. It was
like the
end of am era for him. First he'd
lost
Melia
, his wife, and his arm;
now he'd lost John, too. He had wealth and success, but no
one
to share it with. He wondered if
Tira
felt any guilt for what she'd
done to John. He couldn't imagine that she did. She was always
flamboyant, vivacious, outgoing and mercurial. Simon had
watched
her without her knowing it, hating himself for what he
felt when he looked at her. She was tall, beautiful, with long,
glorious red-gold hair that went to her waist, pale green eyes and
a
figure right out
of a fashion magazine. She could have been a
model, but she was surprisingly shy for a pretty woman.
Simon had already been married when they met, and it had
been
at his prompting that John had taken
Tira
out for the first time.
He'd thought they
were compatible, both rich and pleasant people. It had seemed a marriage made
in heaven; until the quick divorce.
Simon
would never have admitted that he threw
Tira
together
with
John to get her out of his own
circle and out of the reach of temptation. He told himself that she was
everything he despised
in a woman,
the sort of person he could never care for. It worked,
sometimes. Except for the ache he felt every time
he saw her; an
ache that wasn't
completely physical....
When the funeral service was over,
Tira
went out with John's
father holding her elbow. The older man
smiled sympathetically
at Simon.
Tira
didn't look at him. She was really crying; he could
see it even through the veil
Good,
Simon thought with cold vengeance.
Good, I'm glad it's
hurt you. You killed him, after all!
He didn't look her way as he got into his black
limousine and
drove himself back to the office. He
wasn't going to the graveside service. He'd had
all of
Tira's
pathetic charade that he could stand.
He wouldn't think about those tears in her tragic eyes, or
the
genuine sadness in her white face. He wouldn't think about her
guilt or his own anger. It was better to put it all
in the past and let it lie, forgotten.
If he could.
If he
could....
Diana Palmer
157
Chapter 1
The numbered lot of
this
had been a real steal at the price,
but
Tira
Beck had let it go
without a murmur to the man beside her. She wouldn't ever have
admitted
that she didn't need to add to her substantial
in
She'd only wanted to attend the auction because she
knew Simon Hart was going to be there. Usually his
four brothers in
Simon, like
Tira
,
lived in
seemed natural to let him make the bids.
He wasn't a rancher anymore. He was still tall and well
built,
with broad shoulders and a leonine head topped by thick black
wavy hair. But the empty sleeve on his left side
attested to the
fact that his days
of working cattle were pretty much over. It didn't
affect his ability to make a living, at least. He
was a former state
attorney general
and a nationally famous trial attorney who could
pick and choose high-profile cases. He made a substantial wage.
His voice was still his best asset, a deep
velvety one that projected
well in a
courtroom. In addition to that was a dangerously decep
tive manner that lulled witnesses into a false
sense of security
before
he cut them
to pieces on the stand. He had a verbal killer
instinct, and he used it to good effect.
Tira
, on the other hand, lived a hectic life
doing charity work
and was independently
wealthy. She was a divorcee who had very
little to do with men except on a platonic basis. There weren't
many friends, either. Simon Hart and Charles Percy
were the lot,
and Charles was hopelessly in love with his brother's
wife. She
was the only person who knew that.
Many people thought that
she and Charles were lovers, which amused them
both. She had her own secrets to keep. It suited her purposes to keep Simon in
the
dark about her emotional state.
"That was a hell of an anemic bid you made,"
Simon remarked as the next lot of cattle were led into the sale ring.
"What's wrong
with you today?"
"My heart's not in it," she replied. "I
haven't had a lot to do
with the
some thought
to selling the property. I'll
never live there again."
"You'll never sell. You have too many attachments to
the
ranch. Besides, you've got a good manager in
place up there," he
said pointedly.
She shrugged, pushing away a wisp of glorious hair that
had
escaped from the elegant French twist at her
nape. "So I have."
"But you'd rather swan around
Percy," he murmured, his chiseled mouth twisting
into a mocking
smile.
She glanced at him with lovely green eyes and hid a
carefully
concealed hope that he might be
jealous. But his expression gave
no hint of his
feelings. Neither did those pale gray eyes under
thick black eyebrows. It was the same old story. The wreck eight years
ago that had cost him his arm had also cost him his beloved
wife,
Melia
. Despite their
differences, no one had doubted his love
for her. He hadn't been serious about a woman since her death,
although
he escorted his share of sophisticated women to local
social events.
158 |
Beloved
“
What's the
matter?" he asked when his sharp eyes caught her
disappointment.
She shrugged in her elegant black pantsuit.
“Oh, nothing.
I just thought that you might like to stand up
and threaten to kill Charles
if he came near me
again." She glanced at his shocked face and
chuckled. "I'm kidding!" she chided.
His gaze cut into hers for a second and then they moved
back
to the sale ring. "You're in an odd mood
today."
She sighed, returning her attention to the program in her
beau
tifully manicured hands. "I've been in
an odd mood for years.
Not that I ever
expect you to notice."
He closed his own program with a snap and glared down at
her. "That's another thing that annoys me, those
throwaway re
marks you make. If you want to say
something to me, just come
out and say
it."
Typically blunt, she thought. She looked straight at him
and she
made a gesture of utter futility with
one hand. "Why bother?"
she asked.
Her eyes searched his and for the first time, a hint of
the pain she felt was visible. She averted her gaze and
stood up.
"I've done all the bidding I came
to do. I'll see you around,
Simon."
She picked up her long black leather coat and folded it
over her arm as she made her way out of the row and up the aisle to
the exit. Eyes followed her, and not only because she was
one of
only a handful of women present.
Tira
was beautiful, although she
never paid the least attention to her appearance except with a
critical scrutiny. She wasn't vain.
Behind her, Simon sat scowling silently as she walked
away. Her behavior piqued his curiosity. She was even more remote
lately and hardly the same flamboyant, cheerful, friendly
woman
who'd been his secret solace since the
accident that had cost
Melia
her life. His wife had been his whole heart, until that last night when
she betrayed a secret that destroyed his pride and his love
for her.
Fool that he was
,
he'd believed that
Melia
married him for love.
Diana Palmer
159
In fact, she'd married him for money and kept a lover in the
background. Her stark confession about her long-standing
affair
and the abortion of his child had shocked and
wounded him. She'd
even laughed at his consternation.
Surely he didn't think she
wanted a child? It
would have ruined her figure and her social
life. Besides, she'd added with calculating cruelty, she hadn't even
been certain that it was Simon's, since she'd been with
her lover
during the same period of time.
The truth had cut like a knife into his pride. He'd taken
his
eyes off the road as they argued, and hit a
patch of black ice on
that winter evening.
The car had gone off the road into a gulley
and
Melia
, who had always refused to wear a
seat belt because
they were uncomfortable to her, had
been thrown into the windshield headfirst. She'd died instantly. Simon had
been luckier, but
the airbag on his side of the car
hadn't deployed, and the impact
of the crash had
driven the metal of the door right into his left
arm. Amputation had been necessary to save his life.
He remembered that
Tira
had come
to him in the hospital as
soon as she'd heard
about the wreck. She'd been in the process
of divorcing John Beck, her husband, and her presence at Simon's
side had started some malicious rumors about infidelity.
Tira
never spoke of her brief marriage. She
never spoke of John.
Simon had already been
married when they'd met for the first
time,
and it had been Simon who played matchmaker with John
for her. John was his best friend and very wealthy,
like
Tira
her
self, and they seemed to have
much in common. But the marriage
had been
over in less than a month.
He'd never questioned why, except that it seemed unlike
Tira
to throw in the towel so soon. Her lack of commitment
to her
marriage and her cavalier attitude about the
divorce had made him
uneasy. In fact, it
had kept him from letting her come closer after he was widowed. She'd turned
out to be shallow, and he wasn't
risking his heart on
a woman like that, even if she was a knockout
to look at. As he knew firsthand, there was more to a marriage
than having a beautiful wife.