When Next We Love (12 page)

As the fabled moon moved high over Miami, they moved the party inside. Leigh accompanied Tina upstairs to put Lara to sleep in her portable crib, then returned to the game room with the others. Derek caught her as she entered, and maneuvered her into a position where she half reclined against his chest. It was a loving scene, she thought ruefully. His hand moved along her rib cage familiarly and settled beneath her breast as he casually chatted.

“Oh, Leigh!” Tina impulsively interrupted the discussion on the light area damage of the hurricane. “It is so wonderful to have you here with us again!”

“It sure is!” Bobby echoed, hugging his wife closer to him.

“Wonderful,” Derek repeated, and only Leigh caught the sardonic inflection in his tone.

Angela muttered something quickly to Bobby in the Italian he had begun to understand and then smiled at the group mischievously. “And so wonderful that it seems you will be with us for a long time, yes?”

An idea ripped madly through Leigh’s head. It was the perfect time to call Derek’s bluff. Did she dare? She giggled, thinking, the devil made me do it. True in a way. Derek was the closest thing to a real devil she had ever met.

“Oh, darling!” she crooned. “We should tell them!”

Derek jerked and stared down at her adoringly angled head, his eyes narrowing and his pulse suddenly increasing. “Tell them what,
darling?”

“Really, Derek!” she admonished, pushing playfully from him. “He’s so shy!” she exclaimed to the group, a very convincing, loving smile glued to her tolerant lips. She chanced a quick glance his way to find his jaw stiff and eyes glittering suspiciously. She plunged on quickly, “Well, darling, I think they should know.” Her smile increased and she faked tremulous tears. “Derek and I are going to be married, as soon as we finish the new album.”

Derek’s muscles tensed as if he had been hit by a red-hot poker. She could feel the terrible steel coils of his thighs beside hers as the group went pin-dropping silent. Then Angela and Tina jumped to their feet simultaneously, followed by their husbands, to rush to her and Derek and voice their sincere happiness and congratulations.

Leigh felt the first horrible pangs of guilt over her ridiculous announcement. These people were her friends as well as Derek’s. There was no need to have involved them in their private problems, no need to have created such excitement, which could only be dashed cruelly upon the shore of lies. At least, she assumed, it would all be over quickly. Derek would now have to denounce her and she would explain it had all been a joke …

But Derek did no such thing. After his initial astonishment, he grinned, accepted the congratulations of his friends, and eyed Leigh levelly.

“Really, Leigh!” he mocked her with silky tones. “Now that you’ve let the cat out of the bag, as they say, why should we wait till we finish the album? I never did believe in long engagements. I’m sure we can arrange something nice and suitable in the next few weeks.”

It was Leigh’s turn to be totally astounded. She couldn’t think of a thing to say. Once more her move had viciously backfired. She could only sit and listen to the plans that ricocheted around her, suggestions from Tina and Angela, winks and chuckles from Bobby and Shane, heartfelt good wishes from John and Roger.

It was late when the company finally pulled from the drive. Leigh tried to escape Derek while he said his last good-byes and to race up the stairway before he could catch her, but she never had the chance. He maintained an iron clasp around her until the final car, Roger’s gray Mercedes, disappeared down the moonlit path.

“What’s the hurry, love?” he demanded dryly as he felt her preparing to spring from him. “Shouldn’t we be discussing our wedding plans? Or perhaps be wallowing in the ecstasy of our love beneath this silver moon?”

“If I’m with you, darling,” Leigh retorted, “I’m already wallowing.”

“Tsk! Tsk! That mouth of yours will get you into trouble one day,” Derek warned, ushering her back into the house. “Go to bed. I want you up and ready by seven tomorrow morning!”

“For what?”

“The Overseas Highway has been cleared for traffic. I want to leave early.”

“For Key West?”

“Yes.”

“Why do you want to go with me now?” Leigh asked, her voice caught between bitterness and pleading. “You know I’ll come back. You know that I want to do the album now!”

“You don’t like Samantha Downing, huh?” Derek shrugged indifferently. “It doesn’t matter. You don’t think I’d let my beloved fiancée take that long drive by herself, do you?”

Leigh breathed a sigh of disgust and gripped the banister of the stairway tightly. “I’m sorry I came out with that, Derek, I really am. I was sure you’d come out with the truth. But we have to stop this ridiculousness now.”

“Maybe I’m really intending to marry you.”

“Hell!” Leigh sniffed. “And I wouldn’t marry you—”

“Or,” Derek mused, ignoring her statement of derision, “maybe I just want to bed a hot—” He captured her hand in midair as it sailed toward him. “Or maybe I want to make sure your friend in the Keys hears about this. Maybe I want to meet him and be sure to let him know, after I blacken both his eyes, what it feels like when the woman you love jumps into bed with another man.”

Anger surged through her like a rushing tide as she stood a prisoner of his encircling fingers. “You can say we’re living together, Derek, or you can say we’re engaged. Believe it or not, you won’t be ruining anything—”

“Oh? You mean he doesn’t care if he shares you?”

Leigh ignored that. “And you won’t find anyone’s eyes to blacken.” He had begun to lead her up the stairs. “But my strongest promise is this, Derek Mallory, I will never jump into your bed!”

“Why not?” He was amused suddenly, chuckling. “You’ve jumped into it before.”

“By accident!” Leigh exclaimed. “You know I was locked out! You know that I didn’t know that was your bed!”

“Ah, but, love,” Derek said gravely, “that’s not the occasion I’m talking about!”

In a split second Leigh’s hands became clammy; the hairs on the back of her neck seemed to stand straight with cold, creeping fear.

“What …” She was choking, her throat constricted. “What are you talking about?” That was better. Her demand came off with irritation.

“You don’t know?”

“Of course not!” Good, she was indignant.

Derek smiled lazily, his eyes like some feline predator in the dim light. “Maybe you’ll think of it. Good night.” He moved on down the hall to his own bedroom doorway. “Oh, Leigh, don’t forget, seven
A.M.
And be ready, or I’ll drag you out of bed and dress you myself.”

“That should be a new one for you,” Leigh muttered crossly beneath her breath. “I would imagine you’re much more experienced with undressing women!”

He turned and she cringed, startled that he had heard her.

“I’m quite good at that, too, my love,” he said gravely, a mocking smile stealing into the corners of his sensuous lips. “You’ll have to try me sometime … again.”

Leigh had nothing else to say. She slammed into her room, fighting the shakes as she tried to assure herself that she had imagined Derek’s last word. He couldn’t be referring to Atlanta, he couldn’t be! If he had had any suspicions regarding her, he would have confronted her long ago. Besides, he was still determined to find his mysterious and missing date.

Uneasily convinced, Leigh drifted into sleep. Derek, she decided, before succumbing to the comfort of a restful blankness, had merely discovered a new way to taunt her. Her lips curved into a soft, groggy smile. Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt … Darkness claimed her, shutting out any reminders of just how painful words could be.

As they passed through Homestead the following morning, the disc jockey’s blaring voice from the Audi’s AM/FM radio announced an uninterrupted hour of music by the London Company. Derek, driving, impatiently moved to change the station, telling Leigh sourly that he was not in the mood to hear his own voice.

“Leave it, please,” Leigh requested. It was the newest album that would be played, one that she had purchased, but had not been able to bring herself to listen to yet.

Derek, softened perhaps by her politeness, shrugged. He wore dark sunglasses as he drove, preventing her from seeing any of his thoughts.

The album was a pleasant mix of lighthearted fast tunes and soul-reaching ballads. One was about a child, and as Leigh glanced at Derek he said yes, he had written it especially for Bobby about Lara. The next was a hard, fast piece, the type that toes automatically tap to, about a “vixen beauty” who lied and cheated her way from man to man. Leigh wondered if that particular song had been written with her in mind, but she didn’t glance to Derek for confirmation and he kept silent.

The final song of the set, though, was the one that caused her heart to throb in fast-paced agony. She knew beyond a doubt that Derek had written it for and about his mystery woman. His voice filled-the small Audi with agonizing clarity, husky with emotion.

I remember you like a golden sunset;

I remember you like a fireside.

Crystal dreams and emerald seas

Lord, love, how you please.

Silver lady of the night

Disappears with dawn’s first light …

There was more, but Leigh blocked out the words. She lit a cigarette and stared out the window. They were losing the station anyway.

“It’s good,” she said dispassionately. “Very good. More ‘solid gold’ in there somewhere, I’m sure.”

“Thanks.”

They were passing the long strip of A1A that would deliver them into the Keys. Snowy egrets dotted the slender landscape, and out in the deep azure water a pair of cormorants hovered over the horizon, hunting their breakfast. Leigh turned slightly in her seat to watch a great white heron standing proudly on one pencil-thin leg as he majestically surveyed his surroundings. She spun back around; the Audi was slowing as they entered Key Largo. Derek turned off the road shortly.

“What are you doing?” Leigh asked, puzzled. “This is Pennekamp.”

“I know where we are,” Derek stated flatly.

“All right then,” Leigh replied, growing irritated. “What are
we
doing
here?”
John Pennekamp was an underwater state park. It was a beautiful place, boasting miles of protected coral reefs. Leigh had come many times in her life and enjoyed them all. But what was she doing here now, with
Derek.

“What do people usually do here?” Derek cross-queried sarcastically. “We’re going to go snorkeling.”

Leigh smashed out her cigarette and exhaled with exasperation. “You are a crazy man, Derek,” she said, repeating an earlier observation. “I thought you were in a big hurry to get to Key West.”

“No,” he corrected, “I was only in a big hurry to get started.”

“And we’re going to have a terrific time, I suppose?”

“I would think so.” Derek grinned boyishly. “We’ll be underwater most of the time. You’ll have to keep your mouth shut.”

“Funny, funny,” Leigh muttered. “I don’t have a bathing suit. We don’t have our snorkel gear—”

“They’ve a nice little shop here where you can buy a bathing suit and we can rent snorkel equipment.” Derek set aside her objections.

Leigh went silent with a resigned twist of her shoulders. If he wanted to stop and take a snorkeling trip, he would do it whether she agreed or not. Then a thought came to her as she glanced at Derek’s dark glasses. He had probably worn them more to conceal his identity than as shade against the sun. She almost laughed aloud. A devious little plan began to hatch in her mind.

“Perhaps this is a good idea,” she mused, keeping a small note of reluctance in her voice. He might become suspicious if she sounded too eager. They parked and she hurried out of the car. “Why don’t you check on the excursions and I’ll see if I can find a shop.”

“Okay.” Derek seemed pleased with her affable agreement, and he smiled almost tenderly as he watched her, his eyes swiftly raking over her auburn hair, glinting like spun gold in the sun, and her warm, thick-lashed hazel eyes. “Hurry up. I’ll meet you by the rental window.”

Leigh remained nonchalant and sedate until he disappeared from view. Then she rushed into the shop and purchased the first suit she could find in her own size, donned it hurriedly in the dressing room, and asked the kindly clerk for a public phone.

With feverishly trembling fingers, she called the local radio station and announced that
the
Derek Mallory of the London Company was at John Pennekamp Coral Reef State Park. To assure the validity of her statement, she even gave her own name, while pleading that it not be divulged.

Then she smiled and hung up the phone, and slowly sauntered over to the rental window to meet Derek.

He came up shortly after she did, dressed in a pair of faded blue cutoffs. Leigh winced for a moment of regret. Clad so scantily, every rippling muscle, every tautly honed limb of his superb physique was visible. He would attract the attention of anything female whether his identity was known or not.

“We leave in forty-five minutes,” he told her. “A four-hour trip, all right?” His handsome smile was sincere as he slipped an arm around her shoulder. “Then we can shower, dress, and stop by Marker 88 for a meal before driving on to Key West. How’s that sound?”

“It sounds fine,” Leigh murmured, feigning attention to the rows of flippers that hung in the window. She didn’t want to meet his eyes. Guilt was taking a toll on her. Little pinpricks of uncertainty were telling her that Derek had really been trying to plan a nice day.

They had both just found masks and fins that fit reasonably well when the first shout came, followed by a cacophony of noise and shrill screams.

“It is him!”

“There he is!”

“Oh, my God!”

“Derek Mallory in the flesh!”

Within seconds Derek was besieged in a sea of humanity, trapped between countless bodies and the rental window.

His scathing glance caught Leigh once before she was able to scramble away, and she began to regret her impish prank in earnest The message in his glimmering eyes couldn’t have been clearer had he shouted,
You’ll pay for this!