If Ever I Loved You (9 page)

His fingers tightened to a bruising hold and his voice
hardened. "Meanwhile stay out of Stewart Tobias's bed. I won't have my
wife sleeping with another man."

He released her suddenly and walked out of the apartment
slamming the door behind him.

Several days later a letter arrived from her attorney
stating that Mr. Van Housen had declared his intention to contest the
suit for dissolution and therefore the proceedings would be more
complicated than first thought. Gina crumpled the heavy bond paper in
her hand and knew that she could no longer put off telling Stewart
about this latest impediment to gaining her freedom. She couldn't take
the chance that Peter might contact him directly. He and Stewart had
apparently been friends until she entered the picture but now they
hated each other's guts.

She gazed at the cream-colored telephone on her desk.
There was no need for her to drive all the way back up to the cabin
when she could call and talk to him. He was busy and so was she; there
was no need to waste a whole day on this. After all it was just a
matter of keeping him informed; it wasn't something they had to talk at
length about.

She picked up the phone and her hand hovered over the
dial. What was she going to say to him?
We'll have to
postpone the wedding indefinitely, darling, my husband won't give me a
divorce
? Or maybe,
My husband is holding up the
divorce, dear, but I know you won't mind remaining celibate for two or
three more years until you can legally go to bed with me
.

Gina slammed the phone back in its cradle with a
resounding bang and dropped her heated face in her hands. Damn! Why did
everything have to be so complicated? Couldn't she just once have
simple problems like other people? Was there no end to this nightmare?

She loved Stewart. He was kind and considerate and he
loved her deeply, and still it was Peter who aroused her to a fever
pitch. This situation couldn't go on and it was time she did something
about it.

Again she reached for the phone and dialed quickly.
Stewart answered on the first ring. "Gina," he exclaimed happily, "I
was just thinking about you."

"I was thinking about you, too," Gina said, "and
I—Stewart, I want to see you."

"Not as much as I want to see you, sweetheart," he
answered huskily. "How about tomorrow evening? I have some business to
take care of in Fort Bragg and I have to shop for supplies, I'm running
out of everything up here. I'll pick you up about six and we'll have
dinner, okay? I've missed you like crazy."

She realized that he'd put the wrong interpretation on her
request to see him but it was too late now. She'd try to explain
tomorrow without hurting him.

Gina made a special effort to sound happy and enthusiastic
as she agreed. They talked for a few minutes and just before he rang
off he said, "I love you, Gina."

The words, meant to reassure, made her feel like the cheat
Peter thought she was. What a tragic mess, she thought as she replaced
the phone. Stewart loved her and she loved Peter.

"Oh no!" she groaned aloud as she brought her pondering
thoughts to a screeching halt. She couldn't love Peter! She couldn't be
so stupid as to fall in love with Peter Van Housen all over again.
She'd had enough of loving that man to last her a lifetime. She was not
a masochist, she was an intelligent, well-educated woman who had risen
from the rubble of a shattered romance once and had no intention of
repeating the performance. She wasn't going to revert back to the
lovesick little ninny who didn't know the difference between a man's
love and his lust.

So, fine, she would somehow keep her desire for Peter under control, but what about Stewart? Could she in
all decency remain engaged to him when her body cried out for another
man? That was the basest type of dishonesty, but wasn't it better than
telling him the truth? Stewart loved her enough to wait for her and
she'd be a good wife to him. Surely she was woman enough to simulate a
passion she didn't feel. He need never know—

Don't be such a self-deceiving hypocrite
!
she mentally castigated herself. Of course Stewart would know. He was a
loving and sensitive man and she would hurt him far more by marrying
him than she would by making a clean break of it now. She would never
live with Peter as his wife, but neither could she offer Stewart
second-best. When she saw him tomorrow she would give him back his ring.

That proved to be easier said than done. She decided not
to have dinner with him but to tell him as soon as he arrived and not
prolong the agony. Still she didn't want to greet him looking tired and
grubby after a day's work, so she left the gallery early and went
upstairs to shower and change into a mint green dress with a large
ruffle at the low V-neckline that widened to a short cape at the
shoulders and back. She added a touch of matching green eye shadow to
accent her violet eyes, and a cherry shade of lip gloss completed her
make-up.

When Stewart arrived he swept her into his arms and
planted a long, lingering kiss on her soft willing mouth. She couldn't
hurt him by resisting, and besides she liked to have him kiss her. He
didn't arouse her to a smoldering passion, but his kisses represented
warmth, stability and security. She could have been happy married to
this loving older man if Peter hadn't come into her life again.

He held her close and his beard felt soft against her
cheek. "I've missed you, darling," he murmured. "Let's get married
before I start my next book. I want you with me, even though I'm not
very good company when I'm writing."

Gina cringed inside at the thought of what she must do,
but it couldn't be put off. Now was the time. Stewart had brought up
the subject of marriage and had given her the perfect opening.

She took a quick breath and began. "Stewart, I—"

He hugged her hard and then released her. "I know, baby, I
promised I wouldn't rush you into marriage. I
am
going to hurry you about eating though. I'm starved. We have
reservations for seven o'clock at the Steak & Lobster and it's
at least a half-hour drive up that winding coast highway, so get a move
on."

He laughed and Gina ducked into the bedroom to pick up her
shawl. He was in a good mood. The least she could do was let him enjoy
his dinner before she clobbered him.

The restaurant was situated on a bluff overlooking the
ocean, and both the food and the scenery were outstanding. They ordered
lobster and were given huge bibs that tied around their necks to
protect their clothes when they dipped the succulent white chunks of
meat into small pots of warm melted butter that often dripped as they
raised it to their mouths.

As though by mutual consent they kept the conversation
light. Stewart talked about the letter he'd received from his
honeymooning daughter and Gina told him of the highly profitable two
weeks she'd had at the gallery. Later they danced to the music of the
four-piece combo and he told her how beautiful she was and how much he
wanted to make her his own. It was then that she asked him to take her
home.

It was about eleven o'clock when they arrived back at her
apartment and Gina poured them each double portions of Scotch over ice.
Stewart raised one speculative eyebrow and grinned. "What are you
trying to do, sweetheart, get us both bombed? After ail that wine with
dinner and now this I may wind up sleeping on your couch tonight. That
is unless you'd rather I shared your bed."

Gina sat down at the other end of the couch from him. "I
have to talk to you, Stewart," she said.

He chuckled. "About sharing your bed? If you ask me nicely
I think I could be persuaded." He held out his hand to her. "What are
you doing way over there? Come here and let me show you what a nice bed
partner I could be."

She moved to sit closer to him, but when he tried to take
her in his arms she resisted. "Please, Stewart, I'm serious."

His teasing tone immediately vanished and he looked at her
with a wariness he made no attempt to hide. "I'm sorry, Gina," he said
quietly. "I didn't realize. Tell me about it."

Before she could lose her nerve Gina removed the stunning
diamond ring from the third finger of her left hand and looked at it as
she held it in her palm. "I'm returning your ring. I—I can't
marry you. I'm sorry."

She had expected arguments, recriminations, almost
anything but the total silence that followed. Finally, when the quiet
seemed to close in on her, she raised her head and looked at him. There
was a veiled expression in his eyes and she knew he had successfully
masked whatever emotion he might have been feeling.

He watched her for a moment then said, "It's Peter Van
Housen, isn't it?"

She looked away again. "I—I'm married to him and
he's contesting the divorce. He told me yesterday. It may be a long
time until I'm free."

"By free do you mean you're going ahead with the
dissolution?" He sounded like a disinterested bystander.

"Of course, but he intends to fight it every step of the
way. He has a lot of money, he can hire the best lawyers and it may be
months, years even, before I can get a hearing."

Stewart took a gulp of his whiskey. "I have a lot of money
too, and I'm not without influence. I can hire lawyers who are just as
smart as his, and I will if you're truly serious about wanting out of
the marriage."

She gripped the ring in her fist. "I can't let you do
that."

Again there was silence, broken at last by Stewart's
voice, tender this time. "Look at me, Gina." She lifted her gaze to his
and he asked, "Are you still in love with him?"

She dampened her lips with the tip of her tongue in an
unconsciously appealing gesture. "I don't know," she answered
truthfully. "I don't want to be. He doesn't love me, he told me so. He
let me down badly when I desperately needed his love and trust. It
would be sheer folly for me to fall in love with him again. Even so I
can't help responding to him."

She saw it then, the sharp stab of agony that flicked
across his face and made him cringe. Without thinking she uttered a
little cry of compassion and moved into his arms.

He held her close and she buried her face in the curve
between his shoulder and throat. "Oh, Stewart," she moaned softly. "I'm
so sorry. I didn't want to hurt you this way. I really do love you, you
know."

For a few minutes he just held her and didn't try to talk,
but finally, when he did speak his voice was under control. "I know how
you feel about me, baby. I've never kidded myself that you loved me the
way I love you. It would have been enough for me because I wanted you
on any terms I could get you, but not if you're in love with another
man."

The tears she'd been fighting to hold back brimmed over
and spilled down her cheeks and onto his shirt as she sobbed. "I wish
I'd met you first."

He rubbed his bearded cheek against her temple. "Even if
you had it wouldn't have worked for us. Remember, I'm almost as old as
your father. When you were eighteen I was in my middle thirties and had
a wife and teenage daughter not much younger than you. You wouldn't
have given me a second thought."

He fumbled in his back pocket and handed her a white linen
handkerchief. "Don't cry for me, Gina," he said as he Sifted her away
from him. "Save your tears, you're going to need them for yourself if
you let Peter Van Housen back in your life again."

He stood and put on his suit coat while Gina dried her
eyes and blew her nose. She balled the handkerchief in her hand and got
up feeling awkward and uneasy. How was she going to handle the
good-byes?

Stewart did it for her. He dropped his hands on her
shoulders and said, "You're welcome to keep the ring. I have no use for
it."

It was only then that she remembered she still held it and
raised her closed fist palm up. She opened her fingers slowly and gazed
at the glittering stone. "I'm sorry, I'd forgotten I still had it.
Maybe that says something to both of us, Stewart. It's a sign that I
find it hard to give you up, and for that reason I must not keep it.
It—it has to be a final break, for both our sakes."

He took it from her and shoved it in his pocket. "Perhaps
you're right." He put his arm around her waist and led her to the door.

He turned toward her then and put his other arm around
her, holding her loosely against him. "Good luck, my darling."

His lips touched hers for just a moment and then he was
gone.

Shortly after lunch on Friday, as Gina sat at the desk in
her cramped little office off the main room of the gallery trying to
balance her checkbook, the phone rang. It was Peter. She'd have known
his voice anywhere, and if her ear hadn't there were other parts of her
anatomy that did, including her heart. It seemed to leap within her and
then started pounding at an appalling speed.

Her thoughts went back seven years when she had
experienced exactly the same reaction every time he'd telephoned her.
She would wait impatiently for a call, then race to answer the phone
when it rang and close her eyes, the better to savor every nuance of
that incredibly sexy voice that sent a wave of pure ecstasy washing
through her pulsating young body.

The wave was back again and she clenched the receiver like
a lifeline to keep from being drowned in emotions she would not, dared
not, experience again.

Peter must have misunderstood her silence because he
rushed to fill it with words. "Please, Gina, don't hang up. What I have
to say is important."

He sounded alarmed, as though he would go to any lengths
to keep her on the other end of the line.

She pressed her hand to her fluttering stomach and
answered. "I have no intentions of hanging up, but I am busy. I hope we
can keep this conversation short."