Torn Asunder (19 page)

Taking a deep breath she pushed through the double doors
leading to the showroom of the salon, where Dev was waiting for her.

He had been watching the doors, lounging back against a
desk. As she came through he didn't change his stance but she saw the
electricity in the gaze that roved her body. There was a possessive, satisfied
look there. The warm look widened into a smile that heated her body like a hot
poker. Cle had the distinct feeling that her blood had indeed begun to sizzle.

"Hello." He straightened and came toward her, bending
down to take her mouth with his, his reluctance to end the kiss very obvious.
"Max says that you have been working like a Trojan all day." He
leaned back to look at her. "I've ordered Chinese food for us. We'll have
a little music, a little bird's nest soup and we'll relax. How does that
sound?"

"Wonderful," Cle breathed, knowing that if he had
suggested sky diving without a parachute her answer would have been the same.
She was going to be alone with Dev!

Dev had to stop to pick up the food which didn't surprise
Cle but when he insisted on stopping for champagne, she laughed.

"
Champagne
and chow mein. Lovely."

"I thought we agreed that champagne went with everything."
He grinned at her as he started the car again.

"I don't remember that.. .but, still it sounds
nice." She was so happy she could have floated over
Sydney
without benefit of balloon.

When they parked the car and began to unload, Cle protested
when Dev piled the boxes higher. They weren't heavy, but she argued that she
couldn't see where she was going.

"Stop complaining, love. Didn't you know with us it has
to be fifty-fifty all the way?" Dev's lopsided grin made her heart thump
erratically.

"It seems to me it's more like sixty-forty at the moment."
She frowned at him as he added a carton of noodles to her load, then laughed as
he struggled for his key and tried to juggle the parcels at the same time.

"You'll be punished, my darling jester," Dev
threatened. He set the packages down with a thump. Cle stuck out her tongue,
then streaked for the bedroom, laughing.

She didn't even have to decide what to wear. She had known
from the moment that Dev said he had bought the food and they would be alone
that she would wear the Punjabis in turquoise and blue that he loved to see on
her.

What imp prompted her, she would never know, but she brushed
her hair until it shone then twisted it in the Oriental chignon of Madame
Butterfly. Then she proceeded to take great pains with her makeup. Not even
for shows had she ever donned quite as much but she was striving for an effect.
Slowly the face she knew changed
...
oh, not so that it was unrecognizable but so that now it had an Eastern look to
the features. The eyes had an alluring almond shape to them, the black eye
liner making them tilt upward. The cheekbones seemed to be more defined, yet
more doll like.

Satisfied, Cle nodded, and slipped into the punjabis. She
had to gasp when she looked in the mirror again. She did look Oriental.

When she went out into the lounge area Dev was bent over the
coffee table between the two couches. He was dressed in one of the loose silk
shirts that he enjoyed for leisure. They had no buttons but were wrapped around
the body and tied to one side with sleeves that were full and cuffed at the
wrist. This one was in a sea green that would compliment her punjabis, Cle
thought gleefully as she watched him, waiting for him to notice her. His slacks
were a thin silky cotton that delineated his strong lower torso, emphasizing
his narrow waist and hips, his muscled thighs. He had cotton clogs on his feet
and looked totally relaxed, at ease. All at once he straightened and turned
toward her, a glass in his hand.

It looked as though he were going to offer the glass to
her—but he didn't. For milliseconds it was as though neither of them breathed.
Then he exhaled sharply, placed the glass on the table and looked back at her.

The song on the stereo seemed loud all at once. The
throbbing voice seemed to come from a personal chanteuse they had hired just
for the evening. And her love song was "Why Did I Choose You?"

Dev walked toward her, stopped a foot away and bowed from
the waist. "You honor me, beautiful lady." His voice had a richness
that made Cle's pulses throb. "Will you dance with me?"

Cle nodded, her hands still folded in front of her in the
Oriental gesture of obeisance.

Dev opened her fingers one by one, kissing them.

She could not take her eyes from him as he pulled her into
his arms. She knew the song changed but she had no idea what the music was as
she swayed in his arms. As Dev pressed his lips to her forehead and she closed
her eyes, she thought her happiness was butterfly-like— beautiful, glorious,
but short lived. She shut out the future, determined to live only for the
moment.

"We had better eat dinner, my lotus blossom, or we
won't eat at all." His voice was a low growl in her ear.

Cle giggled and let him lead her up a step to the dining alcove
with the angled windows and beautiful view of
Sydney
at night. Before they sat down, they
looked out the window at the traffic, at the buildings. Cle had never felt more
happy.

Dev kissed her cheek. "You set the table and I'll put
the food in dishes."

Cle shook her head at him, knowing she was glowing.
"I'll never get used to the domestic you."

"Well, you'd better. I intend to take over the kitchen
at least once a week when we're back home again." Dev patted her rear, not
seeing the shadow cross her face. "Now get those place settings ready and
I'll get the food." He called the last over his shoulder as he went into
the kitchen.

Moving like a robot, Cle got the cutlery, glasses, and
plates. Dev must have known that she was committed to staying here for two
years. Surely she had mentioned it. She felt dejected. After all, what
difference did it make? She was not going back to the States with Dev. It would
be too hard. Misery overwhelmed her. How could she live without him? Or under
these tentative conditions
with
him?

Dev brought in the food and she forced a smile. She would
enjoy every second with him!
She would!
He
opened the champagne with a minimal pop, and filled two glasses.

"To us." Dev toasted her.

"To us," Cle responded, striving to keep her mouth
from wobbling.

The food was good and very fresh and they helped each other
to vegetables, noodles, pork, assorted fruits. They ate .slowly, often pausing
to smile at each other.

"We are not having dessert, my lady. We're having Irish
coffee," Dev announced saluting her with his champagne glass.

"I thought you always told me to be careful with
booze." Cle leaned both elbows on the table, placing her chin on her
clasped hands. "If I have an Irish coffee after this champagne, I'm liable
to fly out the window." She grinned at him. "Besides, Englishmen
don't drink Irish coffee."

"That's a base lie." Dev caught her hand and
placed his mouth on the back of it.

The courtly gesture had her gasping. "Will you be my
lady, Cle?" Dev asked, his lips just above her hand, his eyes fixed on
her.

"I will be your lady tonight, good sir," she
murmured.

"Good. I also want you to be my lady for all my
life." Dev's smile had a lazy power. "Will you do that, too?"

"Don't be silly. We always said that marriage was not
for us. Don't you remember?" She felt a bubble of hurt float through her
body. "Now where were we?"

Dev leaned back a little in his chair, the muscles of his
face taut. "I was proposing marriage. That's where we were. Now
when
shall
we marry?"

"Never." Cle reached for the champagne glass, but
before she could take a sip, Dev removed it from her hand.

"Listen to me, Cle, I don't know what game you're
playing, but I don't like it. We
are
getting
married." "Don't be—"

"And if you call me silly again, I won't be responsible
for my actions." Dev looked grim.

"Why are you pushing to marry me now?" Cle
squalled. There was a voice inside her screaming, "To hell with worries,
grab him now. Marry him. For however long it lasts it will be all the
happiness you will have your whole life long."

"It's time I had an heir?" Dev asked, the
facetious question having a hard humor. He stood and took a tray from the
sideboard. "I'll get the coffee. If I don't get out of this room for a
minute, 1 might do something I'd regret."

"Don't talk like a fool," she shouted after him.
"No one today marries to get an heir."

There was a short silence then Dev returned to the dining
alcove carrying the tray now laden with steaming coffee, cream, Irish whiskey,
and a cream liqueur.

Cle watched him, her hands clenching and unclenching.
"No one marries for an heir," she muttered again, glaring at him. How
dared he destroy the beautiful mood! Why did he have to mention marriage and
make her recall the conversation she had heard at Clive's home?

Dev threw her one acid glance then he continued to prepare
the Irish coffee. .A jigger of Irish whiskey, a generous measure of coffee, a
small amount of cream liqueur, a generous dollop of heavy cream topped by
freshly grated nutmeg. He passed one of the artistic concoctions in the
crystal mug to her and she mumbled a thank you.

She sipped the coffee. It was delicious and she praised him.

"You have cream on your nose." His smile was slow
in coming as he dabbed at her nose with his napkin. He leaned back in his
chair. "Why are you fighting me on this, Cle? You know we're good
together. What more proof do you want that we are quite solid as a team than
the last year we spent together? Can you say that was bad?"

"No, I can't... but that was different."

Dev's chair crashed backwards as he surged to his feet.
"Let's finish our coffee in the other room. We'll take care of this
later."

Cle preceded him feeling heavy hearted. She didn't have too
many arguments to use against him. She didn't want to tell him what she had
overheard because he would overcome every reason. She knew him well enough to
know that he would be furious with her for accepting such a specious argument
as the conversation she had overheard, for throwing a wrench in the works. Dev
would ride roughshod over anything or anybody who dared to assume what he might
think or do. He would expect her to do the same, but Cle couldn't help the
feeling of truth that cloaked her like doom when she had heard Clive talk to
the faceless
Lydia
.

She sat on the couch expecting Dev to sit opposite her. He
sat next to her, very close, and pulled her back next to him. "You're mad
at me," Cle babbled, loving the warmth of him, feeling soothed because his
chin massaged her hair.

"Am I?" Dev crooned near her ear. "I suppose
I am." His arm tightened around her. "You confuse me, lady. I admit
that. There's much about the inside of you that's a mystery to me. Maybe I've
never even met the deep down you, but I've decided that I must try to." He
sipped his coffee with one hand and massaged her neck and shoulder with the
other.

"You are?" Cle swallowed, burrowing her face into
his chest.

"I am."

"You're a busy man." "Yes."

"You have business interests all over the world that
need your attention." "That's true."

"Mustn't neglect business," Cle said, her eyes
blinking in pleasure at his stroking.

"Never," Dev muttered, taking tiny bites of her
ear lobe. "Shall I show you something that belongs to you and that 1 was
going to give you tonight?"

Cle tried to push away from him. "No... you mustn't
give me anything.. .not now." There seemed to be a tiny explosion in her
head. She knew what he had for her—and she couldn't even bear looking at it!

Dev held her tight, his mouth not leaving her hair as he
delved into his pocket. "Easy, my angel, don't fight me. It won't do you
any good." His voice velvety low, but threaded with steel. "I know
you won't let me give it to you now, but I want you to see it."