Snowbound Heart (18 page)

She was grateful for his help, Clare told herself, and also for his restraint. It was a relief that he had not mistaken her weakness for an invitation. That did not explain the hot, silent tears that slid from the corners of her eyes, nor the feeling like the heaviness of despair that weighted her chest.

There was snow on the Plexiglas dome overhead, a white cover that made the open center of the lodge dimmer than usual. Now and then the melting snow, turned to slush by the warmth of the bright midmorning sun, would slide onto the roof, leaving a clear section of blue sky shining through like a piece of polished turquoise. The water in the heated pool beneath the dome lapped gently against the sides as Logan swam up and down with slow strokes. Clare, lounging in a cane chair filled with cushions, flipped through a magazine, pretending to read. Instead, she watched the man, memorizing the way his hair, sleek with water, molded to his head, the look of inward concentration he brought to what he was doing, and the smooth coordination of his muscled shoulders as his arms cleaved the water. It was a useless exercise, she knew, one that could bring her nothing but pain, now or in the future; still, she could not help herself.

At the sound of a door opening, Clare looked up. Janine and Marvin Hobbs were just emerging from the coffee shop at the far end of the pool. Marvin hailed Logan, then dragged up a chair and motioned him from the water. Logan heaved himself with a lithe movement to the side of the pool to sit relaxed with one arm resting on his knee. Marvin said something to Janine, and the woman glanced at Clare. The producer’s wife nodded and made a laughing remark that made both men smile; then, with conscious grace she moved along the side of the pool to where Clare lay.

“My dear Clare, we have been so worried about you — oh, your poor face!”

Self-conscious in spite of her intention to ignore Janine’s gushing solicitousness, Clare raised a hand to her cheek. “It’s nothing. It will be completely healed in a week.”

“I do hope so. Such a pity if that silly little accident should leave you scarred. But as I was saying, Marvin and I have positively badgered Logan for news. We would have come to see you yesterday, but he would not hear of you being disturbed. I swear it is hilarious to think of him keeping people from you when so often they have had to be kept from him.”

She would have to remember to thank Logan for the mercy of sparing her such a visit when she had been feeling her worst. “He has been good to me.”

“I am glad to see you realize it, though I expect you are enjoying having a man like that at your beck and call, having him carrying you up and down like something precious on a pillow.”

“Why? Because you would?” Clare asked, her tone tart.

“You are out of sorts this morning, aren’t you?” Janine said with satisfaction. Looking around, she chose a tubular chair with green print cushions to complement her bright green dress and drew it up beside Clare’s lounge.

“Not especially, all things considered,” Clare replied.

Janine sent her an uncertain glance, smoothing her dress down over her knees. “You seem in an odd humor to me.”

“Because I don’t want your double-edged commiserations? How ungrateful of me! You will have to excuse me, I have other things on my mind, other things that just happen to concern you, Janine. I would like to have a few words alone with you as soon as it can be arranged.”

“Alone? What on earth for?” The woman stared at Clare with her brows lifted in surprise, though there was an element of wariness beneath her poise.

“There is something I would like to discuss.”

“What is the matter with here?” Janine asked, spreading her hands to indicate the open space around them.

“I would prefer not to be interrupted.”

“And I would prefer not to be inconvenienced any more than is necessary. If you have something to say to me, then say it now.”

Clare closed her magazine and put it to one side. “All right, if that’s the way you want it. What I wanted to speak to you about is my little accident, as you called it, only it wasn’t an accident, as you are well aware.”

“I haven’t the least idea what you are talking about.”

“I think you do. I am saying it was you on the ski slope yesterday, you who deliberately sliced in front of me, hoping to make me fall, making sure of it by snatching my pole when it looked like I might recover. There is no use denying it; you were recognized.”

“You are lying!”

“No. And I would advise you to keep your voice down, unless you would like me to repeat my tale to your husband.”

“He wouldn’t believe you,” Janine said, but the tone of her voice, much quieter than before, was an indication that she was far from sure.

“Possibly not,” Clare conceded, hiding her sense of triumph. “I wonder if he would believe Logan.”

“Logan? Logan recognized me?”

“So you admit it?” Clare asked quietly. Janine need not know that Logan was uncertain of her identity.

“Definitely not,” Janine answered, but her eyes were harried as she turned to look at the two men at the end of the pool.

“It makes no difference. I am sure the police will be able to get to the bottom of the matter.”

“The police!” Janine swung to face Clare, her face pale beneath the coating of her makeup.

“It is a question of assault, you see.”

“You weren’t touched,” Janine declared, her eyes narrowing.

“Wasn’t I? How do you know, I wonder, if you weren’t there? The important thing, however, is that there was intent to cause physical harm, and there are any number of witnesses who can testify to that.”

A cold smile curled Janine’s mouth. “Quite the little lawyer, aren’t you?”

“No, but my father was before his death.”

“Then if you are so sure of your facts, why haven’t you gone to the police already?”

The question was not unexpected. “I would have,” Clare said with an air of candor, “but it could not help but be embarrassing. Logan would have to be dragged into it. Everything would come out — his relationship with you, why he came up here, how I came to be with him, your objections to my presence, your husband’s jealousy, everything. The papers would have a field day, of course. I might have the satisfaction of seeing you brought to book, but at what cost? No, I feel sure there is some other way for this matter to be settled.”

“And just what did you have in mind?” Janine inquired, her words cold and even with the rage that burned inside her.

“Surely you can guess,” Clare said gently. “First of all, you will agree to leave Logan in peace. I think you know that if there ever was anything between the two of you, it is over now.”

“Why, you — “

“Come on, Janine. Names won’t hurt me,” Clare said, impatience threading her voice. “In any case, that isn’t all. I am also going to ask you to return to your husband’s good graces. It will be to the advantage of all of us if you can manage to convince him there was no affair, that you were infatuated for a time and are now recovered. That shouldn’t be too much to ask of someone who was once an actress.”

“You must be crazy!”

“No, I don’t think so. There is a reason for what I am saying. Once you have regained your husband’s trust, you will encourage him, discreetly of course, to complete the arrangements to produce Logan’s screenplay.”

“That is blackmail,” Janine said tightly.

“Yes, I believe it is. I think it might be more effective if I put a time limit on it, too. Shall we say that by the end of the week you will bring this business to a head?”

“That’s impossible.”

“I don’t think so, not for someone of your … talents.”

Janine stared at her with calculated rage. “If you think you can make me believe Logan is a party to this kind of underhanded trick, let me inform you I am not so stupid. He would never go through with it.”

“No, he wouldn’t, any more than he would take another man’s wife. It’s a good thing that I am the injured party, isn’t it? If I go to the police, I don’t think Logan will ignore a subpoena, as much as he might like to.”

“If I were to tell him what you are doing, I think he would put a stop to it.”

This was a possibility Clare had not considered. She did not intend to let Janine know it, however. “He might try,” she replied. “Then again, he might not. It is even possible he might be grateful.”

“You would like that, wouldn’t you?” Janine sneered. “That’s the real reason you are doing this, because you are in love with him. Well, don’t kid yourself, honey. You haven’t got a prayer. If I can’t have him, I can at least see to it that you don’t either.”

There was no time to go into the veiled threat. At the far end of the pool, Marvin Hobbs was on his feet and Logan had reached to pick up his terry swim robe, wrapping it around himself. “Can I take it you intend to cooperate, then? I suggest you make up your mind, since the men are about to join us.”

“Yes, damn you, I agree,” Janine hissed, and turned toward Marvin and Logan, trying to arrange her features in a relaxed look of welcome.

Clare’s smile was no less strained. She had won, and yet somehow the victory seemed incomplete. Now that it was over, it was incredible that Janine had actually believed she would go to the police. Only someone totally vindictive and uncaring of how she appeared in the press, could go through with such a thing. What had Janine meant by her statement that she could see to it Clare did not have Logan either? There was no point in worrying over it. Since she had no hope of Logan ever seeing her as anything more than a nuisance of a female reporter who was able to be of use in return for an interview, she had nothing to lose. Janine could not hurt her.

“What have you two girls been talking about?” Marvin Hobbs inquired.

“Nothing,” Janine answered with a shrug. “Just this and that.”

“Oh? Looked mighty interesting from where Logan and I sat.”

Janine flicked a glance at Clare, then turned to her husband once more. “If you must know, we were talking about our two handsome men,” she said with a small provocative smile. “I’m surprised the ears of both of you weren’t burning.” Clare, finding Logan’s blue gaze resting upon her with a query in its depths, felt the heat of a blush rising to her hairline.

The next three days passed without incident. Clare progressed from lying with her foot elevated to walking with aid. She spent a portion of the time rereading Logan’s script, discovering that he had not only made the women characters stronger, but he had also softened the hard outlines of their personalities. She could take no credit for that change; still, it pleased her in some obscure way. Logan, when she had tried to express her approval, had only smiled at her with a quizzical look in his eyes.

He spent most of his time in her company, sitting with her, reading, talking, handing her whatever was out of reach, helping her to and from meals without the least sign of impatience. Such close attendance was probably because he felt responsible for what had happened, Clare told herself, but that did not prevent her from enjoying the easy companionship.

They were not troubled by Janine. Her time was taken up with her husband. With brittle gaiety and high spirits that seemed only barely under control, she enticed him out onto the slopes, cajoled him into taking her shopping in Aspen, or swept him with her for late hours at the nightspots around town.

Marvin Hobbs was kept so busy that there was little time for discussion of any kind between him and Logan. Clare was surprised that Logan did not chafe at the apparently permanent stall in the negotiations on his project. If it disturbed him, he did not show it.

Toward the end of the third day, as the two of them sat with feet stretched toward the fireplace in sole possession of the lounge, while the more energetic guests took to the snow, Clare looked at Logan. “When we were cooped up by the blizzard, you couldn’t stand this confinement. You don’t have to put up with it for my sake now, you know. I will be perfectly fine if you want to go out, maybe take advantage of the break in the weather.”

“Are you, by any chance, trying to get rid of me?” Logan folded the section of the afternoon newspaper he was reading and let it sail to join the rest of the paper scattered on the floor around them.

“You know that isn’t it. I just don’t want you to feel you have to stay with me every minute.”

“Oddly enough, I’m enjoying being lazy. I don’t remember the last time I really relaxed. I think I must have been too keyed up; it always felt like I was wasting time when I wasn’t out and doing, even if all I was doing was burning energy.”

“Now that I have forced you into taking a rest, I suppose your career will go downhill from now on and you will blame me.”

“I may at that,” he answered, a smile flitting across his face.

“I didn’t ask you to devote all your time to me,” she pointed out.

“No, it was my own idea for a change. You are a restful person to be with, Clare. Did you know that?”

“Is that a compliment?” she asked suspiciously.

He did his best to look apologetic. “I think it must be.”

“Then I will accept it,” she said, “so long as you don’t go to sleep.”

“I don’t think it’s likely. There’s no telling what you might do to attract my attention.”

Clare turned slowly to face him, doubt shading her gray eyes. She had almost persuaded herself that he no longer believed she had wrecked her car to bring herself to his notice. As for the other incidents — her invasion of his room, her fall — surely he could not think there had been any kind of grandstand play for his attention in them.

Abruptly Logan reached out to touch her hand, his fingers closing warm and reassuring around hers. “No,” he said, “I didn’t mean it the way it sounded.”

Clare summoned a laugh and a quick comment, and the moment passed, but the ease between them was gone. In its place was a stiff and self-conscious strain overlaid by unreasoning apprehension.

That fear, ill-defined but persistent, was still with Clare as she dressed for dinner. The shrilling of the telephone on the table beside her bed made her jump, spilling the makeup she was using to camouflage the marks on her face. They were fading, but a little flesh-colored makeup made them even less conspicuous.