The Tawny Gold Man (14 page)

* * * *

A light tapping roused Anne and, coming awake quickly, she glanced around the room in confusion before realizing where she was. The last thing she remembered, after sliding under the comforter, was that she probably wouldn't sleep and now the room was bright with sunlight.

The tap sounded again; then the door was pushed open and Jud took one step into the room, looking brisk and all business in a khaki-colored summer-weight suit, crisp white shirt, and chocolate silk tie. His tone matched his appearance in briskness.

"Good morning. Sorry to wake you, but I'm ready to leave for the office and as I hate leaving notes, I thought I'd better warn you about Mrs. Doyle before she arrived and startled you. Mrs. Doyle comes in twice a week to clean the place and she's a regular whirlwind. If you don't stay out of her way she's liable to dust you along with the furniture so I'd advise you to vacate the premises. Do a little shopping. I've left you some money, it's on the kitchen count—

"I don't need your mon—" Anne interrupted, only to be cut off herself

"I don't have time to argue, Anne," he snapped, glancing pointedly at his watch. "I have an appointment in less than an hour. There's fresh coffee and muffins warming in the oven if you're hungry. I don't know what time I'll get home, probably not before six thirty, so don't bother about dinner. We'll go out somewhere. Take the money."

He was gone and Anne sat staring at the empty doorway, angry words of refusal dying on her lips. Gritting her teeth, she sat fuming for several minutes.  Men!  A thought struck her, propelling her out of the bed with a muttered oath. This Mrs. Doyle would be coming to clean the rooms, including the bedrooms. Damned if she'd allow the woman to see the true status of their marriage.

Causing something of a small whirlwind of her own, Anne tidied and dusted her bedroom then moved on to Jud's performing the same tasks there, while studiously not looking too closely at his personal things. Showered and dressed to go out, Anne was sitting at the table with her first cup of coffee when Mrs. Doyle arrived.

"You must be Mrs. Cammeron," the small, round woman began in a bland manner.

"Yes, but how—" Anne started, only to be cut off with an airy wave of a small, pudgy hand.

"Mr. Cammeron called me at home. Asked me not to disturb you if you'd gone back to sleep." Then she tacked on, "Oh, yes, congratulations. I hope you'll be very happy."

"Thank you," Anne murmured, amusement tugging at her lips. "Would you like a cup of coffee?"

"No, thank you. I have two other places to get to today, so I'd better get started."

She turned to the closet for the cleaning utensils and Anne, going to the sink to rinse her cup, said quickly, "Well, I've saved you some time.  I did the bedroom, so all you have are the kitchen, living room, and bath."  At the look of alarm that crossed the other woman's face, she added, "There will be no difference in your salary. I—I guess I just wanted to play at housewife a little." Although Anne considered her last words an inspiration, she nonetheless had to force them through her teeth. And with the strange look Mrs. Doyle gave her, she fled with a short, "I'm going shopping. Nice meeting you."

Feeling like a complete idiot, she left the apartment almost at a run, not slowing down until she was several blocks away.

For an hour Anne strolled listlessly through the shops, barely seeing the merchandise displayed, feeling none of the enthusiasm her previous shopping trips to New York had generated. Finally giving up, she walked for some time before coming to a stop before a movie theater. On the spur of the moment Anne bought a ticket and slipped inside to lose herself for several hours in the dimmed theater and the twisting, involved plot of a foreign film.

Anne was curled into one corner of the sofa leafing through a magazine when Jud came in just before seven. He looked tired and short-tempered, his eyebrows inching up as he ran his flat amber gaze over her jeans and pullover, making her so nervous she stumbled over her explanation.

"The s-salad’s tossed and—and there's a lasagna in the oven."

"That wasn't necessary, we could have eaten out."

He crossed the living room, shrugging out of his jacket as he spoke, but although his tone was indifferent, Anne had the distinct impression he was relieved at not having to go out again.

It was not until they were back in the living room, dinner finished, this time listening to the upbeat sound of Tito Puente, that Jud threw out casually, "We'll go out tomorrow night, Anne. Maybe after dinner we'll take in that Swedish film everyone's talking about. They say it's very good."

"It is."

Anne sat biting her lips as he slowly straightened, the unasked question plain on his face.

"I—I didn't feel like shopping today," Anne spoke hurriedly. "So I went to a movie. I'm sorry, Jud."

He stared at her a long time, his expression strange, almost hurt, and Anne had to force herself to sit still and not squirm. Finally, when Anne thought she'd scream if he didn't say something, he said quietly, "Doesn't matter."

They stayed in New York until Friday, and Jud did not suggest going out again, either to the theater or dinner. In fact he didn't come home for dinner, saying the same thing to her each morning before he left. "Don't wait for me for dinner. I'll grab something somewhere close to the office. I have no idea what time I'll be home. Enjoy your day."

Enjoy your day. Anne raged silently. How does one go about enjoying anything when they're torn apart with uncertainty and—yes—jealousy. Was he really working? Surely not until after ten every night If he's not working, where is he? Elementary, dummy—Lorna's place.

In an attempt to keep these, and other even more self-defeating thoughts at bay, Anne filled the hours of the day with sight-seeing and shopping, mostly on foot. At night she roamed the apartment, tired but unable to sleep or even sit for longer than a few minutes at a time. She made several surprising discoveries, however. Apparently she and Jud shared more than their interest in his father's company. She found most of her favorite authors in his large collection of both hardcover and paperback books. She found they had like tastes in popular as well as classical music as, by Thursday night, she had listened to almost every one of his CDs. And she loved the apartment. He had obviously decorated it himself, for everything about it seemed to whisper his name. Given free rein, Anne knew she'd have made very few, if any, changes. With so many things in common, why couldn't they be together for longer than thirty minutes without arguing?  No answer presented itself to her silent question.

Anne boarded the plane for home Friday afternoon with mixed emotions. Relief at giving up her solitary existence in the apartment vied with unease at how Jud planned to carry off their mock marriage surrounded by family. She needn't have worried. As usual Jud had overlooked nothing.

"I've had a few changes made at the house while we've been away. I hope they meet with your approval."

Anne felt a flash of irritation at his bland, indifferent tone. As the changes were already made, did it make any difference if she didn't approve? In an effort to keep her voice calm, she pushed her question through stiff lips.

"Changes? What changes?"

He shot her a sharp glance, studying her tightly drawn features slowly before answering.

"Nothing earth-shattering, so take that trapped look off your face."

"What changes?" Anne hissed.

"I've had your things moved to the guest room on the other side of my bathroom."

Jud's room and the one her mother and his father had shared were the only bedrooms with private baths. Anne and her brothers had used the central bathroom that was entered from the hall. Unable to see the reason for the move, Anne said sharply, "Why?"

"Why do you think?" he snapped. Then he sighed and added softly, "I've also had a doorway cut into the wall between the guest room and the bathroom. Are you beginning to get the picture?"

"Perfectly. Will there be a lock on that door?"

His lips twisted scornfully. "You don't pull your punches, do you, Anne?"

For a moment his eyes glittered with anger; then with a shrug of indifference, he turned away from her, his tone bored.

"Yes, Anne, there will be a lock."

Chapter 11

The arrangement worked better than Anne would have suspected, even though she had bad moments, like entering the bathroom when the mirror was still cloudy from his shower steam and the air redolent with his cologne. At those times she was struck by a wave of longing so intense it took every ounce of willpower she possessed to keep from stepping through the door into his room.

Spring slipped into summer and Jud's plans for the company slipped into high gear. The much opposed contract was signed and the entire place was a beehive of activity and confusion. Jud moved through it all like the only sane man in a madhouse. He made a point of keeping Anne apprised of every move before it was made and for that she was grateful, for otherwise she'd have been as certain as practically everyone else that they would fail.

By mid-September Anne could see positive results emerging from what had looked like hopeless chaos. And as Jud's prediction that they could do it was proven correct, the attitude of the employees slowly changed from pessimistic to positive and supportive.

Anne had never worked so hard in her life. The amount of work Jud relegated to her as his assistant was enormous. No longer could she allow herself the luxury of going out for lunch, she simply could not spare the time. Instead she swallowed massive amounts of coffee and much smaller amounts of sandwiches at her desk and not only at lunchtime but quite often at dinnertime as well.

She lost weight and, through the sunniest, hottest summer she could remember, acquired a decidedly unbecoming pallor. Her mother was vocal with concern, and when it became evident that Anne was not listening, she switched her complaints to Jud. Within days Anne's work load was cut considerably and she could feel Jud's brooding glance at regular intervals. His close observance of her had the opposite effect of what her mother had intended. Anne became even more pale and drawn and added to it was the tension that comes with being watched.

The fact that by summer's end Troy and Todd were following Jud like a pair of teenage-idol worshipers didn't do much for Anne's morale either. Convinced that the twins would have capitulated just as quickly if she hadn't married Jud, Anne felt the whole thing had been an exercise in futility. Jud had given up his freedom and Lorna, and Anne could feel herself turning into a tired, frustrated shadow. And all for what? The question tormented her incessantly.

By mid-October the major part of the upheaval was over and it was obvious that Jud had made a brilliant move for the company. The employment list was up, production was up, and most important of all, everyone's morale was up.

At the end of their first almost normal week, Jud sauntered into Anne's office, stood behind her a few nerve-wracking seconds while he ran his eyes over the order she was working on, then calmly plucked it out of her hand and dropped it onto the desk.

"John will take care of that," he said flatly. "Get your handbag and jacket, we're leaving."

"Leaving? But why? It's only three thirty and—"

"And we have a plane to catch at six forty-five," he interrupted smoothly. "So don't argue, just move."

"I'm not moving anywhere until you tell me what this is all about," Anne retorted. "A plane to where? And why?"

"We're tired, both of us." His eyes ran over her critically. "Frankly you look like hell. We're going away for a few days, soak up some sun and rest. Mel has a house on a tiny island in the Lesser Antilles and she has offered us the use of it. I graciously accepted for the both of us."

Smarting over his remark about her looks, Anne shook her head.

"I don't want to go away with you."

His eyes narrowed and his tone went low with a silky warning.

"Want to or not you're going if I have to drag you by the hair. And if you want to pack some things, you'd better snap to it. As I said, our plane leaves in a little over three hours."

Anne bristled but pulled her desk drawer open and removed her purse. She knew better than to argue with that tone of voice.

* * * *

Anne woke the following morning to the soothing sound of the ocean, the scent of lush tropical growth, and the raucous noise of brightly plumaged birds she couldn't begin to name.

The trip had been accomplished smoothly and without incident but, as it was dark when they arrived, Anne had seen very little of Melly's delightful house. She couldn't wait to explore and with an eagerness she hadn't felt in months, Anne jumped out of bed. After a quick wash she donned jeans and t-shirt then followed the mouthwatering aroma of frying bacon to the kitchen.

Whistling softly, Jud stood at the stove, alternately sipping from a cup of coffee and poking at the bacon with a long-handled fork. As she entered the room, he turned and gave her a smile that robbed her of breath.

"Good morning, wife. Your timing is perfect. If you'll set the table we can eat."

Stunned, Anne couldn't move. His easy bantering tone after weeks of strained politeness had thrown her. His taunting voice brought her to her senses.

"Wake up, lady, and get the table ready. Unless, of course, you like your bacon burned."

His tone set the mood for the day. Together, at times hand in hand, they explored the house and grounds. Anne loved every inch of it and was only too happy to follow wherever he led her.

The house was solidly constructed to withstand the hurricanes that ripped through these islands in the fall, with a wide deck that ran completely around the single-story building. But as beautiful as the house and grounds were, the best thing about it as far as Anne was concerned was that one had only to walk down a short, gentle incline to the dazzling white sands of the beach, and thus into the unbelievably blue water.

After a very late lunch, both Anne and Jud were content to stretch out on lounge chairs on the deck and be lulled to sleep by the whisper of waves caressing the shore.

Anne woke late in the afternoon and lay quietly, allowing her eyes to roam over the sleeping form on the lounger next to hers. The last weeks had taken their toll on Jud as well as her. He looked honed down to a fine edge, not an excess ounce on his large frame, and there were new grooves cut into his face at his mouth. Fighting off the urge to reach out and smooth away those grooves, Anne slipped silently off her chair and into the house.

Fifteen minutes later, unable to resist the sun-sparkled water, Anne put on her bikini, scooped up a large bath sheet, and left the house. She dropped the huge towel on the sand and walked slowly into the water, savoring the feel as it lapped at her legs.

Some minutes later, floating on her back completely lost in her newfound, buoyant world, Anne gave a short, terrified scream when something caught and tugged at her leg. The word shark filled her mind and in blind panic she kicked her legs wildly. Her leg was released and in the next second a hard, sinewy arm slid around her waist and Jud growled in her ear.

"For God's sake, woman, relax. It's only me."

"Oh, Jud," she sputtered, "you frightened me. I thought you were a—"

The breath was knocked out of her as he pulled her against his chest and then, with a muffled curse, his mouth covered hers savagely.

With a feeling of unreality, Anne felt herself being forced down under the water.
 
This can't be happening,
 
she thought frantically. It was her nightmare all over again only now she was awake and terrified. Struggling desperately, she tore her mouth from his, heard him whisper, "Damn you, Anne," and filled her lungs with great gulps of air. Then his mouth caught hers again and she was going under—deeper, deeper.

She felt his fingers at the clasp of her bikini top and then the wisp of material was gone, lost forever in the restless waters. His hands moved with a wet silkiness over her body, molding her against the hard length of him and with a low moan Anne stopped fighting.

As it had always done in her dreams, Jud's mouth drove out all fear, ignited a fire in her veins that spread rapidly through her entire body, filling her with a hungry need. In total surrender, she slipped her arms around his neck, arched her body to his and became flamingly aware that he had not bothered to put on swim trunks. She felt his hands tug at the material at her hips and then the brief panties were floating off to join their other half.

Mouths clinging, bodies entwined, they were caught up in a wave as it broke and were flung tumbling toward the beach. The force of the wave separated them and scrambling to her feet, gasping in the sweet taste of air, Anne ran out of the water and across the sand to drop choking and exhausted onto the towel.

Jud followed her slowly and watching him walk toward her, Anne's heart thumped wildly in her chest and throat. In the last rays of sunlight Jud's tall, lithe frame seemed to be cast in glowing bronze, the gold chain around his neck, with its oddly familiar egg-shaped medallion, glinting at her wickedly.

When he reached her, he stood unmoving and silent until she was forced to look up at him.

"Back there, in the water"—his voice was a ragged whisper—"you wanted me as badly as I want you. Don't turn away from me now, Anne. I need you now. I need you to be my wife."

Anne stared at him wordlessly for long seconds then slowly raised her arms. With a low groan, he dropped to his knees beside her, pulled her into his arms and crushed her mouth with his. Within seconds she was back in that fiery world his lips and hands set ablaze so effortlessly.

Gently he unlocked the door that guards all maidens, and when the pain came she heard him grunt as she unknowingly sank her teeth into his shoulder. Pleasure soon consumed all memory of pain and he grunted in an altogether different tone when she full well knowingly nipped at the other shoulder.

Later, drained of everything but the wonder of being a woman, Anne lay in Jud's arms, purring for all the world like the cat that had finally caught the canary.

When he felt her shiver from the touch of the evening air, Jud rose, scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the house. Without pausing, he went into the bathroom, adjusted the shower spray with some difficulty, and stepped into the shower with her still held firmly in his arms, all the while ignoring her squeals of protest. When the last grains of sand were sluiced away he dried, first her, then himself and carried her to his bed, where he proceeded to teach her how to give pleasure, as well as be pleasured.

Anne woke in a state of euphoria, in love with life, in love with the world and more deeply in love than ever before with the man who filled her being to the exclusion of everyone and everything else. She was alone and, wanting to rectify that, she slipped on a robe and went hunting for Jud.

She heard his voice before she reached the doorway to his uncle's small study and not wanting to disturb him she paused. A moment later she was wishing fervently she hadn't. He was speaking to John Franks and his words were like a blade, plunged into her chest.

"Yes, I know it's close on the heels of the other deal, but we can handle it. What? Oh, no problem there. She's relaxed and calm." He laughed softly. "She looks like a new woman."

Anne backed away from the doorway, fighting the urge to run.
 
Where could she run to?
  
She wept silently. There was nowhere in the world far enough.

When he found her on the deck ten minutes later, she was every inch the calm, new woman he had laughingly said she was.

"Good morning, chicken," he began as he started toward her, but the words died on his lips and his eyes narrowed as he took in her withdrawn expression.

"What's the matter, Anne?" His tone was now low, urgent. "Is it about last night? I'm sorry if I was rough at first, but—"

"There is nothing to be sorry for, Jud," she answered coldly. "I've put it from my mind, as if it never happened."

"Never happened?" he repeated in a hushed tone, then at a near shout, "Never happened? What the hell do you mean?"

"Just that, Jud." Suddenly afraid of the fury in his eyes, she turned away from him, walked several feet along the deck before turning back to him, indicating the surroundings with a wave of her hand. "I'm as human as the next, Jud. This near perfect setting," she shrugged, "I gave in to an urge." Her voice chilled scathingly. "The urge of nature. Man, woman. Male, female. Animals. Mating."

He went white and stepped back as if she'd struck him.

"Animals?" It was a hoarse groan through pale, stiff lips.

For an instant he seemed to sag with defeat, then he straightened and his eyes glittered dangerously. The old, hatefully sardonic smile twisted his mouth and he said smoothly, "Can I take it from that you are ready to go home?"

"Yes, if you don't mind."

His shrug was elegantly careless, as was his tone.

"Whatever."

They returned home that night, both of them locked inside their own frozen world. The weeks that followed were the worst Anne had ever lived through. The pain and heartbreak Anne had felt when Jud went away all those years ago were nothing compared with the anguish she lived with now. And added to that anguish was a growing confusion and uncertainty, for the deal she had overheard Jud discussing with John Franks that fateful morning had not materialized.

Jud was unfailingly polite in an icy, contemptuous way and he was watching her again. She could feel his eyes on her at odd hours of the day and night, sending cold shivers down her back, raising goose bumps on her flesh. Anne wondered desperately how long she'd be able to withstand his silent assault on her nervous system.

A week after their return he strolled diffidently into her office and tossed a square white envelope onto her desk. Anne eyed it warily, saw it was addressed to Mr. And Mrs. Judson Cammeron and that it had not been opened. She didn't touch it and after a long silence he drawled sarcastically, "Your legal eagle is getting married. He requests the honor of our presence at the ceremony."

Who cares?
 
A voice cried inside Anne, but aloud she could barely murmur, "I don't want to go."

"Too bad, because you're going to go." His eyes raked her ruthlessly. "I have already told Lorna we'd be there."

"Jud, I will not be—"

Anne sighed; she may as well have saved her breath. Jud had turned and walked back into his own office, closing the door with a final-sounding snap.

As the weeks before Andrew's late November wedding date shortened, Jud spent longer and longer periods of each week in his New York office. Anne swung widely between being sure he was being unfaithful and equally sure he was not.

Ten days before the wedding an employee problem cropped up while Jud was in New York. As the employee involved was one of executive staff and the problem was of a delicate nature, Anne, in her present mental state, felt she could not cope with it. At the dinner table that evening, Anne outlined the situation for Troy and Todd and asked them if they'd take care of it for her. Before she'd even finished speaking, they were shaking their heads emphatically.

"I wouldn't touch it with a dirty stick," Troy snorted.

"Ditto." From Todd.

With a sigh of resignation Anne left the table and went into the library. There was nothing else for her to do; she would have to telephone Jud. On the third ring the call was answered by Lorna's husky voice.

"Hello."

Anne's eyes closed slowly. Oh, God, no, she prayed. Please let there be a mistake. There was no mistake, for clear and unmistakable, as if she stood in the same room, Lorna's voice asked, "Hello? Who is this?"

Slowly Anne lowered her arm, gently cradled the receiver. Moving like a sleepwalker, she made two more brief calls, walked out of the library, and up the stairs to her room. Twenty minutes later, suitcase in hand, she came back down the stairs and left the house.

Melly welcomed her with open arms that closed warmly and protectively around Anne's small, too slim body.

"Anne, honey, with your mother away, I'm so glad you came to me."

Margaret had left the previous week to spend a month in Florida with some friends, but even had she been home, Anne would have gone to Melly, feeling she had to get out of Jud's house.

After showing Anne to the guest room, Melly settled herself on the small, padded rocker in the room, and said bluntly, exactly as her nephew might have, "All right, let's have it. What's the problem?"

"I—I can't handle it any longer, Melly," Anne whispered. "I've made an appointment with my lawyer for next Thursday. I told him I wanted to dissolve my marriage."

Melly leaped out of her chair with the agility of a teenager, her face stark with shock.

"You
 
are going to divorce Jud?"

"Yes." Anne's voice cracked but grew stronger as she went on. "And I don't want to talk about it."

Melly opened her mouth to protest but closed it again when Anne raised her hand and said flatly, "I mean it, Mel. Unless you want me to leave right now, please don't question me."

"At least answer one question," Mel coaxed. "Does Jud know where you are? What you're planning to do?"

"No." Anne answered in the same flat tone. "And that's two questions."

"Just one more," Mel rushed on. "Do you think you're being entirely fair?"

"Fair?" Anne had to force back the hysterical laughter that rose in her throat. "Jud doesn't know the meaning of the word fair."