Carly's Gift (29 page)

“Andrea wanted me
to tell you she'd be down in a couple of minutes,” David said, coming into the living room.

Carly gave him a quick smile of thanks and reached for the cup of tea the maid had brought in earlier. “You have a lovely home, David,” she said formally, having decided to keep distance between them with words as well as space.

“Actually, it belongs to Victoria. Her father gave it to her as a wedding present.”

When she and Ethan were married, Carly had thought receiving a place setting of her china a generous gift. “How nice.”

“It was for me. It's amazing how trappings influence people.”

“Success breeds success?”

He came farther into the room. “Something like that.”

“I'm sorry Victoria couldn't be here.”

“Why's that?”

The teacup rattled against its saucer as she put them back on the table. “I was looking forward to meeting her.”

“Now, why do I find that hard to believe?”

“I have no idea. I wanted to thank her in person for being so good to Andrea,” Carly snapped, realizing she'd taken his bait.

David sat in the chair opposite her. “Finally, an honest reaction. I was wondering how long it would take.”

“What did you expect?” she asked, lowering her voice to keep Andrea from overhearing them. “You've put me in an impossible position. Either I lie to Ethan when I get home about Victoria being here, or I spend the next ten years trying to convince him nothing happened between us.”

“I don't see the problem,” David said. “You're quite good at both lying and convincing.”

“Why are you doing this?”

He leaned back in the chair, stuck his legs out in front of him and crossed them at the ankles. “Because I'd rather fight with you than listen to that god-awful polite chatter you've been mouthing since you got here.”

“That's what I have to look forward to for the next two weeks?”

“You won't last the day. Once you realize I'm not going to stop riding you until you loosen up, I figure that peace-at-any-cost streak of yours will kick in. After that, we can get on with enjoying Andrea for what will probably be the first and last time the three of us will ever have a chance to be alone together.” He drew his legs back up and leaned forward. “We've been given a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, Carly, let's not waste it worrying what Ethan or Victoria or anyone else might or might not think.”

“The time we have together can't be any more than an isolated moment,” she said, relenting.

He stared at her long and hard, his eyes filled with an undisguised hunger. “We can talk about that later.”

“No, we can't,” Carly insisted. “I came here to—”

“I'm ready,” Andrea announced, stepping into the room. When neither of them responded, she made a face. “Obviously I've interrupted something. Should I leave and come back later?”

“David and I were just talking about how much you've grown up in the past year,” Carly said in a rush. “And how sorry I am to have missed being with you to see the changes.”

Andrea put her hands on her hips and looked from David to Carly and then back again. “What's your version, David?”

He chuckled. “I think I'll stick with Carly's.”

“I'll let it go this time,” Andrea said with mock sternness, “but you're both going to have to work on the subtleties.” She turned to Carly. “Now, what's on the agenda? Where would you like to go first?”

Carly shrugged helplessly. “How do I choose?”

“You don't,” David said, standing. “You let us choose for you.”

As Carly watched him, it hit her that David was one of those rare people who improved with age. He was even better looking at forty than he had been at twenty. Physically, he was within five pounds of what he'd weighed when he was on the wrestling team in high school. And although his eyes no longer projected the innocence of a young man who believed he could conquer the world, in the loss of naïveté, his face had taken on an enigmatic quality, as if he had witnessed great sorrow and not just come away wounded, but wiser. He was the kind of man women wanted to nurture and then take to their beds.

“Do I get veto power?” Carly asked, purposely keeping her voice light.

“Absolutely not,” David told her.

“I know,” Andrea said, turning to David. “Let's take her to the Tate. No, better yet, let's go to Bond Street and wander through the galleries there. You can take her to the Tate one of the days I'm in school.”

Carly's eyes narrowed speculatively at the scripted sound of the dialogue. “Since when are you interested in art?” she asked Andrea.

“Jeffery paints,” she said with a sheepish grin.

“Oh, I see.” Carly was surprised at how disappointed she felt.

“Well, how does Bond Street sound to you?” David asked Carly.

“I haven't spent a day wandering through galleries since—” Realizing what she was about to say, Carly stopped. The situation between David and her was volatile enough without her bringing up New York and the weekends she'd spent there with him. “Anyway, it's been a long time. I think a day rummaging through art galleries sounds like great idea.”

Carly chanced a look at David; his eyes reflected the same memories that had assailed her. She tried to dismiss them with a casual smile, but her lips refused to move.

When the three of them arrived home that evening, Carly no longer feared that two weeks was not enough time to spend with Andrea—she knew it wasn't. Not only had Andrea and David tolerated her enthusiasm over the paintings and watercolors at the galleries, they had shared it, insisting on going through the back rooms to search out the work of obscure artists, delighting when they found one that stood out from the others.

In the years since Carly had indulged her love of art, she had purposely closed her mind to the excitement it had afforded her. That wouldn't be possible anymore. It had only taken a few hours for the long-dormant hunger to be reawakened.

She would probably still be in the galleries if Andrea hadn't pled starvation and decided they should go to the Athenaeum Hotel for tea. In a day already filled with magic for Carly, afternoon tea became the rainbow, the long-stemmed cherry on top of the ice cream sundae, the sequined party dress. Even as she was drinking the tea and eating the pastries, she told herself the food couldn't be as good as it seemed. Sustenance hadn't been as satisfying or sensual since the picnics David used to bring her when she went into the countryside to paint.

They were walking down Shepard Street when Andrea suggested they take a cab for home rather than walk the relatively short distance. Carly had started to protest that she wasn't ready to end the evening, but before she could say anything, she noticed how tired Andrea looked. Knowing that Andrea would stay up all night if asked, Carly feigned a yawn of her own and said a hot bath and bed sounded good to her, too.

The bath turned out to be yet another luxury in a day already filled with excesses. There was lilac-scented soap in a Wedgwood bowl and a towel big enough to wrap around her twice. After a self-indulgent half hour, she'd gone back to her room and read several chapters of the mystery she'd picked up at the airport, then dozed for an hour and came wide awake again at ten-thirty.

Another two hours of tossing and turning went by before she accepted that she was not going to go to sleep again. She turned on the light, picked up her book, and started to read. Her eyes tracked the lines on the page but her mind didn't register the words. Instead, she thought about the day she'd spent with Andrea and David and how dangerously good it made her feel.

It seemed the harder she tried to concentrate on the book, the more her mind wandered. Frustrated, she gave up, put on her robe, and started for the kitchen for something to drink.

She didn't see David sitting in the moonlit living room until it was too late to keep him from seeing her. Instinct demanded that she get out of there as quickly as possible. A longing she didn't stop to analyze demanded that she stay.

“I heard you stirring and wondered whether or not you'd come down,” he said.

“You've been sitting here all night?” she asked, reaching up to pull her robe closer but then stuffing her hands in her pockets when she realized how defensive the gesture would seem.

“Just the last hour or so. I couldn't sleep, either.”

“What's your excuse?” she asked, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

“Do you really need to ask?” he said, the words as unguarded as his voice.

The moonlight coming in through the tall, mullioned windows bathed the room in a soft white light. “This isn't what I expected jet lag to feel like,” she said, sidestepping the intimacy of his question.

He didn't comment and she rushed to fill the silence. “You live a privileged life.”

After a moment, he crossed the room to stand beside her. “My circumstances are comfortable, but it wasn't until Andrea came here that I became privileged.”

Coming from anyone else, the words would have been too flamboyant to ring sincere. “You're good with her,” Carly said, letting her defenses momentarily drop.

“She saved me from myself, Carly. I was just existing before Andrea came to live with me.” As if unable to keep himself from touching her any longer, he reached out and straightened the collar on her robe. His hand brushed her cheek and then dropped to his side. “She gave me back the joy I felt when you and I were together.”

Her gaze fell to the hastily tied knot in the belt holding his robe closed. It struck her that all it would take was a gentle tug and the knot would give. “In the beginning, I hated having to share her with you,” she said. “But after a while, when I saw how she'd come to love you and how good you were for her, I allowed myself to take vicarious pleasure in your relationship. The calls you made to tell me about some small wonderful thing Andrea had done or accomplished became the only intimate moments in my life.”

David touched her cheek again, only this time with confidence that she wouldn't turn away. “We could have had it all,” he said.

With a whispered sigh, she surrendered. She turned her face into his hand and touched the palm with her lips.

With a soft moan, he took her in his arms and held her close. She laid her head against his chest. She could hear his heart beating through his robe. “You've turned my life inside out, David,” she said. “I don't know which way is up anymore.”

“I once asked you if you were sorry I came back.”

She closed her eyes against the memory. “And I told you I was.”

“Do you still feel the same way?”

“After seeing what you've done for Andrea, how could I be?”

“Forget Andrea. I want to know how you feel.”

“If I tell you what you want to hear, you'll think I've changed my mind about us.”

“Have you?”

“We have no future.”

He stood back, cupped her chin in his hand, and forced her to look at him. “Maybe not. But we have now.”

She turned her head, extricating herself from his grasp. “This is Victoria's house—you're her husband. And what about Ethan? He's the man he is because of me. There are times I almost drive myself crazy wondering how different he would be if he'd married someone else. I feel so goddamned guilty.”

“You've got to be kidding.”

“He's knows I don't love him—hell, I don't even like him anymore. It gets harder and harder to pretend. No wonder he does such stupid, desperate things. Wouldn't you?”

“I'd like to think I would love you enough to put your happiness above my own.”

She gave him a piercing look. “You're saying that because it's what you want him to do.”

“Don't paint me with the same brush, Carly. I've never tried to manipulate you.”

“This is insane,” she said. “Why are we bloodying ourselves in this fight? There's nothing we can do or say here tonight that will change anything. You're never going to leave Victoria and I'm never going to leave Ethan.”

“Even if I let myself believe our futures were that cut and dried, we still have now.”

“Two weeks, David. That's all.”

“That's like asking a starving man to turn away the first course because he can't have the whole meal.”

“I can't make love to you, David.”

“Why not?”

She placed the flat of her hand against his chest, needing to touch him physically even as she pushed him away mentally. Tears burned her eyes. “Because I would never be able to make love to Ethan again without feeling I was prostituting myself.”

He threw his head back in frustration. “Is that what you call what you do with him? Making love? When was the last time you initiated anything. When was the last time you felt anything?” When she moved to withdraw her hand, he brought her closer. “How long has it been since you sent the kids over to Barbara's to have an evening alone? Better yet, how many nights a week do you stay up late hoping he'll be asleep when you go to bed?”

She could feel the warmth of his breath on her face. For long seconds they stood perfectly still, suspended between desire and moral rectitude. And then Carly's defenses gave way to the force of nineteen years of denial and she swayed toward him. Their lips touched. David groaned and covered her mouth with a fierce devouring hunger.

“I want you more this moment than I've ever wanted anything in my life,” he told her.

In answer she put her arms around his neck, stood on tiptoe, opened her mouth, and kissed him. For one glorious instant all restraint disappeared. She gave herself to him, releasing the love she'd held locked away, like a songbird in a desperately small cage. After years of isolation she was awash in the euphoric joy of being with her best friend; the man she'd loved beyond reason for almost her entire life. She would deal with whatever consequences loving David might bring when she was home.