Come Lie With Me (21 page)

“He hadn't been here over five minutes,” she said remotely, lifting her hand to cut him off when he started to speak. “He and Serena have patched up their differences, and he wanted to talk to me. She sent him over, as a matter of fact, but you're welcome to call her if you don't believe me.”

His eyes sharpened, and he took a step toward her, his hand reaching out. Dione backed away. It had to be now, before he touched her. He might not love her, but she knew that he desired her, and with them, touching led inevitably to sex. That was another thing she couldn't bear, making love with him and knowing it was the last time.

“Now is as good a time as any to tell you,” she said, still in that remote voice, her face an expressionless mask. “I've accepted another case, and I'll be leaving in a few days. At least, those were my original plans, but now I think it would be best if I left tomorrow, don't you?”

His skin tightened over his cheekbones. “What are you saying?” he demanded fiercely.

“That I'm breaking our engagement,” she said, fumbling with the delicate clasp at the back of her neck and
finally releasing it. She took the ruby heart and held it out to him.

He didn't take it. He was staring at her, his face white. “Why?” he asked, grinding the word out through lips that barely moved.

She sighed wearily, rubbing her forehead. “Haven't you realized by now that you don't love me?”

“If you think that, why did you set a wedding date?” he rasped.

She gave him a thin smile. “You were making love to me,” she said gently. “I wasn't in my right mind. I've known all along that you didn't love me,” she burst out, desperate to make him understand. She couldn't hold out much longer. “I humored you, but it's time now for it to end. You've changed these past weeks, needing me less and less.”

“Humored me!” he shouted, clenching his fists. “Were you also ‘humoring me' when we made love? I'll be damned if you were!”

She winced. “No. That was real…and it was a mistake. I've never been involved with a patient before, and I'll never let it happen again. It gets too…complicated.”

“Lady, I don't believe you!” he said in disbelief. “You're just going to waltz out of here as if nothing ever happened, aren't you? You're going to mark me down as a mistake and forget about me.”

No, he was wrong. She'd never be able to forget him. She stared at him with pain-glazed eyes, feeling as if she were shattering inside. A sickening headache pounded in her temples, and when she held the necklace out to him again her hand was trembling. “Why are you arguing?” she asked raggedly. “You should be
glad. I'm letting you off the hook. Just think how miserable you'd be, married to someone you don't love.”

He reached out and took the necklace, letting the tiny gold links drip over his fingers like metal tears. The sun pierced the ruby heart, casting a red shadow that danced over the white bench beside her. Savagely he shoved it into his pocket. “Then what are you waiting for?” he shouted. “Go on, get out! What do you want me to do, break down and beg you to stay?”

She swayed, then steadied herself. “No,” she whispered. “I've never wanted you to beg for anything.” She moved slowly past him, her legs weak and unwilling to work as they should. She would pack and go to a hotel, and try to get an earlier flight rather than waiting until her original flight was scheduled. She hadn't imagined that it would be so difficult, or that she would feel so battered. This was worse, far worse, than anything Scott had ever done to her. He had hurt her physically and mentally, but he had never been able to touch her heart. It was killing her to leave Blake, but she had to do it.

Her headache was worse; as she stumbled around the bedroom trying to gather her clothing she had to grab at the furniture several times to keep from falling to her knees. Her mind was muddied, her thoughts jumbled, and nothing made much sense except the overpowering need she had to be gone. She had to leave before she was hurt any more, because she didn't think she'd be able to live if anything else happened.

“Stop it,” a low voice commanded, and a hand caught her wrist, pulling her fingers away from the lingerie that she had been tossing carelessly into her suitcase. “You can pack later, when you're feeling better. You have a headache, don't you?”

She turned her head to look at him and almost staggered when her vision swayed alarmingly. “Yes,” she mumbled.

“I thought so. I watched you practically crawl up the stairs.” He put his arm around her waist, a curiously impersonal touch, and led her to the bed where they had shared so many nights. “Come on, you need a nap. You surprise me; I didn't think you were the type who lived on nerves, but this is a tension headache if I've ever seen one.” His fingers moved down the front of her blouse, slipping the buttons out of their holes, and he eased the garment off her.

“I'm almost never sick,” she apologized. “I'm sorry.” She let him unsnap her bra and toss it aside. No, it wasn't a matter of
letting
him do anything. The truth was that she didn't feel capable of struggling with him over who would remove her clothes, and she badly needed the nap he had suggested. It wasn't as if he hadn't already seen every inch of her body. He eased her down on the bed and unfastened her slacks, sliding an arm under her and lifting her so he could pull them down over her hips. Her shoes came off with the slacks; then his hands returned and made short work of the filmy panties that were her last remaining garment.

Gently he turned her on her stomach, and she sighed as he began to rub the tight muscles in her neck. “I'm returning the favor,” he murmured. “Just think of all the massages you've given me. Relax and go to sleep. You're tired, too tired to do anything right now. Sleep, darling.”

She did sleep, deeply and without dreaming, sedated by his strong fingers as they rubbed the aching tension from her back and shoulders. It was dark when she woke, but her headache was gone. She felt fuzzy and
disoriented, and she blinked at the dark form that rose from a chair beside the bed.

“Do you feel better?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said, pushing her heavy hair away from her face. He tuned on the lamp and sat down on the edge of the bed, surveying her with narrowed eyes, as if gauging for himself how well she was feeling.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” she said awkwardly. “I'll pack now, and go to a hotel—”

“It's too late to go anywhere tonight,” he interrupted. “You've slept for hours. Alberta left a plate warming for you, if you feel like eating. I think you should try to eat something, or you'll be sick again. I didn't realize what a strain you had been under,” he added thoughtfully.

She was hungry, and she sat up, holding the sheet to her. “I feel as if I could eat a cow,” she said ruefully.

He chuckled softly. “I hope you'll settle for something less than a whole cow,” he said, untangling a nightgown from the jumble of clothing that still littered the bed. He plucked the sheet away from her fingers and settled the nightgown over her head as impersonally as if he were dressing a child. Then he found her robe, and she obediently slid her arms into the sleeves while he held it.

“You don't have to coddle me,” she said. “I feel much better. After food, I want a shower, and then I'll be fine.”

“I like coddling you,” he replied. “Just think of how many times you helped me to dress, how many times you coaxed me to eat, how many times you've picked me up when I lay sprawled on the floor.”

He walked downstairs with her and sat beside her while she ate. She could feel his steady gaze on her,
but the anger that had been there earlier was gone. Had it been only pride that made him lash out at her; did he now realize that she was right?

When she went back upstairs he was right behind her. She looked at him questioningly when he entered the bedroom with her. “Take your shower,” he said, taking her shoulders and turning her in the direction of the bathroom. “I'll wait out here for you. I want to make sure you're okay before I go to bed.”

“I'm fine,” she protested.

“I'll stay,” he said firmly, and that was that. Knowing that he was waiting, she hurried through her shower. When she came out of the bathroom he was sitting in the chair he'd occupied before, and he got to his feet.

“Bedtime.” He smiled, pushing the robe off her shoulders. She hadn't fastened it, knowing that she would be taking it right off again, and it slipped to the floor. He leaned down and lifted her off her feet, then deposited her on the bed. She gasped and clutched at his shoulder.

“What was that for?” she asked, looking up at him.

“For this,” he answered calmly, and kissed her. It was a deeply intimate kiss, his mouth opening over hers and his tongue moving in to touch hers. She dug her nails into his shoulder in surprise.

“Let me go,” she said, pulling her mouth way from his.

“I'll let you go tomorrow,” he murmured. “Tonight is mine.”

He bent down to her again, and she rolled her head away; denied the sweet bloom of her lips, he found the sensitive slope where her neck met her shoulder and nipped at it with his teeth, making her gasp again. He
dipped his hand into the bodice of her nightgown, rubbing his palm over the rich globes that had lured him.

“Blake…don't do this,” she pleaded achingly.

“Why? You love me to touch your breasts,” he countered.

She turned her head to look at him, and her lips were trembling. “Yes,” she admitted. “But I'm leaving tomorrow. This…will only make it more difficult. I've accepted another job, and I have to go.”

“I understand,” he murmured, still stroking her flesh. “I'll put you on a plane tomorrow, if that's what you want, but we still have tonight together, and I want to spend it making love to you. Don't you like what we do to each other? Don't you like making me go out of my skull? You do. You make me wild, with your body like hot silk on me. One more night, darling. Let us have this last night together.”

It was exactly what she hadn't wanted, to make love to him and know that she never would again, but the sensual promise he was making her with his hands and body was a heady lure. One more night, one more memory.

“All right,” she whispered, beginning to unbutton his shirt. His hot flesh beckoned her, and she pressed her lips to him, feeling the curling hair under her mouth and the shiver that rippled over him. The intoxicating excitement that always seized her at his touch was taking over again, and she unbuckled his pants, helped him kick them away. He parted her legs and fit himself between them, the fever of feeling so high that no more preparation was needed, no more loving required to make her ready for him.

With a slow, smooth thrust he took her, and she ad
justed her body to his weight and motion, letting the excitement well up like a cresting wave and take her away.

One more night. Then it would be finished.

I
t didn't get any better. She had thought that it would get easier, even if the wound never quite healed, but from the time Blake saw her onto the plane at Sky Harbor Airport, the hurting never peaked, then declined. It stayed with her, eating at her. If she could forget about it during the day while she worked with Kevin, who was her new patient, it returned full force at night when she went to bed and lay there alone.

Milwaukee was at the opposite end of the world from Phoenix, or seemed like it. In a matter of a few hours she had exchanged a dry desert for several feet of snow, and she couldn't seem to get warm. The Colberts were nice, friendly people, anxious to do what they could to help her with Kevin, and Kevin was a darling, but he wasn't Blake. The childish arms that hugged her so spontaneously didn't satisfy the need she felt for strong, masculine ones, nor did the wet, loving kisses that Kevin and his little sister, Amy, gave her every night make her forget the kisses that had drowned her in a sea of sexual pleasure.

She had never thought that she would miss the fights that she and Blake had had, the loud and boisterous arguments, but she did. She missed everything about him, from his early-morning grumpiness to the wicked smile that lighted his face when he was teasing her.

With foolish desperation, she hoped that the last night
they'd had together would result in a baby; he hadn't taken any precautions that night, and for almost three weeks she was able to dream, to pretend. Then she discovered that it wasn't to be, and her world turned that much darker.

When she received a large check in the mail, forwarded by Dr. Norwood, it was all she could do to keep from screaming aloud in pain when she saw his signature. She wanted to tear it up, but she couldn't. The check was for the agreed-upon money. She traced her fingertip over the bold, angular script. It was just as she had known it would be; once she was away from him, she became only a part of his past. She had done what was best for him, but she hadn't known that she would have to live the rest of her life on the fine edge of agony.

With grim determination she set about rebuilding the defenses that he had torn down. She had to have them, to push the pain and memories behind, to hold the darkness at bay. Someday, she thought, looking at the wintry gray sky, she would find pleasure in living again. Someday the sun would shine again.

She had been with the Colberts exactly one month when she was called to the telephone. Frowning in perplexity, she gave Kevin his coloring book and crayons to keep him occupied until she returned, then went out to the hall to answer the phone.

“It's a man,” Francine Colbert whispered, smiling at her in delight; then she left to see what had happened to make Amy suddenly bellow as if she were being scalped.

Dione put the phone to her ear. “Hello,” she said cautiously.

“I'm not going to bite you,” a deep, rich voice said
in amusement, and she slumped against the wall as her knees threatened to buckle under her.

“Blake!” she whispered.

“You've been there a month,” he said. “Has your patient fallen in love with you yet?”

She closed her eyes, fighting down the mingled pain and pleasure that made her throat threaten to close. Hearing his voice made her weak all over, and she didn't know if she wanted to laugh or cry. “Yes,” she gulped. “He's madly in love with me.”

“What does he look like?” he growled.

“He's a gorgeous blond, with big blue eyes, not as dark as yours. He pouts for hours if he doesn't win when we play Go Fish,” she said, and wiped a stray tear from her cheek.

Blake chuckled. “He sounds like real competition. How tall is he?”

“Oh, I don't know. About as tall as your average five-year-old, I suppose,” she said.

“Well, that's a relief. I suppose I can leave you alone with him for a few more months.”

She almost dropped the phone and had to grab the cord before it got away from her completely. Putting it back to her ear, she heard him say, “Are you still there?”

“Yes,” she said, and wiped another tear away.

“I've been doing a lot of thinking,” he said casually. “You told me over and over again that I didn't love you; you explained in great detail why I couldn't love you. But one thing that you never said was that you don't love me, and it seems to me that should have been your number-one reason for calling off a wedding. Well?”

What did he want? To reassure himself that she was
all right, that she wasn't pining away? She bit her lip, then said weakly, “I don't love you.”

“You're lying,” he snapped in return, and she could feel his temper rising. “You're so crazy about me that you're standing there crying, aren't you?”

“No,” she denied, fiercely dashing the wetness from her face.

“You're lying again. I've got a meeting waiting for me, so I'll let you get back to your patient, but I'm not through with you. If you thought you could end it by getting on a plane, you have a lot to learn about me. I'll be calling you again. Dream about me, honey.”

“I will not!” she said fiercely, but she said it to a dial tone, and she
was
lying anyway. She dreamed about him almost every night and woke up with her pillow damp from the tears she'd shed in her sleep.

Thoroughly rattled, she returned to Kevin, and delighted him by losing a game of Go Fish.

Over the next few days her nerves gradually settled down, and she stopped jumping every time the phone rang. A blizzard shut the city down for two days, knocking out phone service and the electricity. The electricity was restored in a matter of hours, keeping them from freezing, but the phone service waited until clear skies had returned. She was out in the snow with Kevin and Amy, building a snowman for them with their inexpert but hilarious help, when Francine called her.

“Dione, you have a call! It's your friend again. Come on in; I'll bring the children in and get them dried off.”

“Awww, Mommy,” Kevin protested, but Francine was already pushing his little wheelchair inside and Amy followed obediently.

“Hello,” Blake said warmly after she stammered out a hesitant greeting. “Are you pregnant?”
This time she was prepared and held on tightly to the receiver. “No. I…I thought about that, too, but everything's all right.”

“Good. I didn't mean to get carried away. Serena
is
pregnant. She didn't waste any time when Richard came back. She was so excited at the possibility that she couldn't wait to take one of those early warning tests, or whatever you call them.”

“I'm happy for her. How do you feel about being an uncle?”

“It's okay by me, but I'd rather be a father.”

She cautiously leaned against the wall. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that when we get married I'm going to throw away my whole supply of—”

“We're not getting married!” she yelped, then glanced around to see if anyone had heard her. No one was in sight, so she guessed that Francine was still occupied with the children.

“Sure we are,” he returned calmly. “On the first of May. You set the date yourself. Don't you remember? I was making love to you.”

“I remember,” she whispered. “But don't you remember? I broke the engagement. I gave your heart back to you.”

“That's what you think,” he said. “We're getting married if I have to drag you kicking and screaming back to Phoenix.”

Again she was left listening to a dial tone.

She couldn't make any sense out of what he was doing. Sleep got harder and harder to attain, and she lay awake going over the possibilities. Why would he insist that they were getting married? Why couldn't he just let it go?

It was a week before he called her again, and Francine had an amused gleam in her eye when she handed her the phone. “It's that dishy guy again,” she said as Dione lifted the receiver to her ear.

“Tell her thank you,” Blake chuckled. “How are you, honey?”

“Blake, why are you calling me?” she asked in desperation.

“Why shouldn't I call you? Is it against the law for a man to talk to the woman he's going to marry?”

“I'm not going to marry you!” she said, and this time she bellowed it. Francine popped her head out of the kitchen and grinned at her.

Blake was laughing. “Sure you are. You already know all my bad habits and love me anyway; what could be better?”

“Would you listen to reason?” she yelled. “It's out of the question for me to marry you!”

“You're the one who's not listening,” he countered. “You love me, and I love you. I don't know why you're so convinced that I can't love you, but you're wrong. Just think of the fun we're going to have while I show you how wrong you are.”

“This is crazy,” she moaned.

“No, this isn't crazy. You've got some crazy ideas, though, and you're going to get rid of them. You've convinced yourself that no one is going to love you, and you walked away from me, knowing that it was tearing me apart and half killing yourself at the same time. Your mother didn't love you, and Scott didn't love you, but they were only two people. How many people since then have loved you, and you pushed them away because you were afraid of getting hurt again? I'm not going to let you push me away, honey. Think about it.”

“Some guy,” Francine teased when Dione walked into the kitchen. Then she saw Dione's white face and quickly pushed a chair at her, then poured a cup of coffee. “Is something wrong?”

“Yes. No. I don't know.” Dazed, she drank the coffee, then raised stunned golden eyes to the other woman. “He wants to marry me.”

“So I gathered. What's so surprising about that? I imagine a lot of men have wanted to marry you.”

“He won't take no for an answer,” she said abstractedly.

“If he looks as great as he sounds, why would you want him to take no for an answer?” Francine asked practically. “Unless he's a bum.”

“No, he's not a bum. He's…even greater than he sounds.”

“Do you love him?”

Dione buried her face in her hands. “So much that I've been about to die without him.”

“Then marry him!” Francine sat down beside her. “Marry him, and whatever problem is keeping you apart will be settled later. You'd be surprised how many problems people can settle when they're sleeping in the same bed every night and they wake up to the same face every morning. Don't be afraid to take the chance; every marriage is a gamble, but then so is walking across the street. If you didn't take the chance you'd never get to the other side.”

Words tumbled around in Dione's mind that night as she lay sleeplessly in bed. Blake had said that she was afraid of getting hurt again, and it was the truth. But was she so afraid of getting hurt that she had deliberately turned her back on a man who loved her?

No one had ever loved her before. No one had wor
ried about her, held her when she cried, comforted her when she was upset….

Except Blake. He had done all those things. Even Richard had thought she was strong and confident, but Blake had seen beneath the act, had realized how vulnerable she was, how easily hurt. Blake had replaced the memories of violence with the memories of love. When she dreamed of a man's touch now it was his touch she dreamed of, and it filled her with aching need.

Blake loved her!
It was incredible, but she had to believe it. She had set him free, expecting him to forget her, but it hadn't happened like that. It wasn't a case of “out of sight, out of mind.” He had gone to the trouble of finding out where she was, and he had given her time to think about a life without him before he called. He hadn't given up.

As the days passed she went through her routine with Kevin with a smile on her face, humming constantly. He was so willing to do anything she asked that it was a pleasure to work with him, and she knew that soon he wouldn't need her any longer. That automobile accident that had injured him was long forgotten, and all he was concerned with now was if he would be able to play ball by the time summer came.

“How's your patient doing?” Blake asked the next time he called, and Dione smiled at the sound of his voice.

“He's doing great. I'm about ready to graduate him to a walker.”

“That's good news, and not just for him. That means you'll be able to take a long honeymoon.”

She didn't say anything, just stood there smiling. No, Blake Remington didn't give up. Any other man would
have thrown up his hands in disgust, but when Blake decided that he wanted something, he went after it.

“Have you fainted?” he asked warily.

“No,” she said, and burst into tears. “It's just that I love you so much, and I miss you.”

He drew a long, shuddering breath. “Well, thank God,” he muttered. “I was beginning to think I really would have to kidnap you. Lady, it's going to take a lifetime of massages to make up for what you've put me through.”