Hold on Tight (22 page)

Afterward they turned the television off and sat gazing into the fire. Finally he touched her shoulder with his fingertips and said hoarsely, “You’ll never forgive me for helping that man find you.” Then he got up and went to the bedroom. Dinah followed him, her chest aching with sorrow because a part of her admitted that he was right, that his mistake would always be between them. Without turning on the light, he undressed down to his T-shirt and briefs, then got into bed and turned his back to her. Misery radiated from him.

Dinah suddenly felt more sorry for him than for herself. She stripped bare and got into bed with him, then curved herself to his broad back, nuzzled his neck, and wound her arm over his waist. “I can’t sleep with a
man who isn’t naked,” she teased gently. “I’ve become fond of your unclothed bohunkus.”

He chuckled wearily. “You got it, then.” He shucked his shirt and briefs, jauntily threw them across the room, and turned to face her.

“Come here,” she urged, and reached for him. They lay on their sides, in each other’s arms, their legs entwined. “I love you so much,” he murmured, the words an apology for all that had happened.

“And I love you,” she answered. “Sssh. We’ll be all right.” He rolled her onto her back and lay on top of her. Dinah wrapped her legs around him and looked up into the shadowed unhappiness of his face. “Oh, Rucker, you feel so good against me.” Her voice was raspy with emotion and growing desire. “Make everything all right again. Please.”

The intensity of the last few days spilled over into the night, and they both shivered. He ground his hips into the dampness between her legs, and she felt him stiffening. Dinah pulled his head to hers and kissed him deeply, teasing him with quick, desperate movements of her tongue.

Rucker trailed greedy kisses to her ear and said hoarsely, “No matter what happens, we’ll always belong together.”

Her voice was breathless. “Yes.”

She stroked the tight, flexing muscles of his back and hips. He arched his body and entered her in a quick, almost desperate movement that made her cry out with pleasure. They held each other snuggly and chased the sadness away with a sudden wildness that tore restraint apart.

Dinah twisted and rose under him, responding to the fierce, possessive strength of his arms and the tormented way his fingers dug into her back as he lunged against her. Her cry of release drove him to thrust harder. He buried his head beside hers on the pillow, and she whispered encouragement to him as he moved faster.

He raised his mouth to hers and kissed her hard. She felt every muscle in his body contract with pleasure.
Her mouth muffled his long, groaning sigh. The kiss continued in a series that slowly moved down her throat, until finally Rucker braced himself on one arm and dipped his head to nibble her breasts. Then he nestled his head next to hers again, sank one hand into her tangled hair, and guided her face into the hollow of his neck.

Dinah licked the hot, damp skin there. “Don’t move,” she whispered. “I want to fall asleep just like this.”

“I’ll hold you until you do,” he promised, his voice languid and gruff. “I’ll be right here. I’ll be beside you when you wake up in the morning.” He paused. “I’ll be with you the rest of your life, if you want me.”

Dinah caught her breath. A sweet feeling of confidence filled her. “I want you,” she answered.

The kitchen was a haven of warm light against the cold, dark morning pressing against the bay window. Dinah padded in, preoccupied with tucking the tail of a pleated white blouse into a full black skirt that swung gracefully around her stockinged legs. “You’re up awfully early,” she murmured to Rucker. They shared a kiss as she went past him.

“Couldn’t sleep. Decided to feed the critters.”

He sat at the round kitchen table with a plate in front of him, tearing raw bacon into tiny pieces. Jethro clung to the lap of his white, terry-cloth robe and stared hopefully at the bacon. Nureyev hopped back and forth on his perch by the window, cocking his head as he eyed the bacon too.

“Bonjour!”
he called. “
Sprechen sie
grits.” He whistled a few notes that sounded vaguely like the opening bars of “Dixie,” then launched into a garbled quote from Sartre.

“Grits,” Dinah repeated dryly. “ ‘Dixie.’ ” She got a mug and filled it with strong coffee from a percolator on the counter. “Rucker, my crow is culturally confused because of you.”

He chuckled, but the sound was more troubled than cheerful. She sat down across from him and sipped her coffee. “Rucker,” she said in a rebuking voice. “Stop
worrying about me. You have to go to New York. You’ve been scheduled to make this trip for two months. Your book editor is expecting you. The New York Press Club is expecting you. It’s too important to postpone. You have to go.”

“I’ll be back in two days.”

“That’s right. Just two days.”

“You’re supposed to meet with the board of education and the city council while I’m gone. That’s what worries me.”

She smiled with a great deal more reassurance than she felt. “It’s all going to be very calm and polite.” He nodded then shrugged as if he were rebuking himself for being overprotective. It won’t be difficult at all, she added silently. All I have to do is turn in my resignations.

Dinah was seated at the piano practicing when the phone rang in the kitchen. Thinking that it was Rucker, she ran to answer it. But Lula Belle’s voice leapt out at her over the receiver.

“Dinah, I think you better turn your TV to
Entertainment Tonight
. They just said something about Rucker being arrested in New York on account of he assaulted Todd Norins.”

This isn’t happening, Dinah thought desperately as she ran back to the living room and switched on the television. She knelt in front of her set, her hands clasped to her chest. A commercial was playing. Her breath short, she watched unblinking as the show returned. The beautiful blond hostess sent a grand smile into Dinah’s living room.

“In New York, today,” the smiling blonde said, “an altercation between award winning investigative reporter Todd Norins of
USA Personal
and best-selling author Rucker McClure ended with Norins unconscious on the floor of Napoleon’s, a super-elegant Manhattan eatery.”

Dinah gasped out loud. Beside the smiling blonde a publicity picture of Todd Norins appeared on the screen. “It seems that McClure took exception to an exposé Norins did last week on former Miss Georgia Dinah Sheridan. McClure, who is reputed to be the ex-beauty queen’s boyfriend, cornered Norins in the restaurant.
Fellow diners said the two men exchanged heated words that ended when Norins threw a water glass at McClure. According to reports, McClure then grabbed the unsuspecting newsman by the coat collar, dragged him to a nearby table, and shoved his face into a plate of raw oysters.

Norins retaliated by tossing a punch at McClure, but the punch missed and hit a bystander”—the smiling blonde paused for effect—“who happened to be the owner of the raw oysters. In retaliation, that man hit Norins in the face, knocking him unconscious.”

The blonde paused again, smiling broader. “Norins was treated and released at a Manhattan hospital. McClure and the unidentified oyster lover were arrested for assault and battery but were released on bond late today by New York City police. Charges and countercharges are being filed by all three parties involved in the incident.” She winked. “There’s no word yet on the fate of the oysters.”

“Rucker, how could you?” Dinah asked aloud, shaking her fists at the television. Anguish and fury combined to make her clutch her overwrought stomach as a wave of nausea hit her. Right before he left, he’d promised to behave.
Promised
. A few minutes later she was in the car, on her way to the airport and then to New York.

The high-rise hotel room was quiet and dimly lit, but the shadows seemed to hum with tension. Rucker stood at a big window gazing out at the cold rain slicing down on the Manhattan nightscape. He had his arms crossed over his chest and his long legs braced defiantly. He had stood this way ever since Dinah’s angry arrival ten minutes earlier. His gray dress shirt missed the top five buttons where he had fiercely jerked the collar open, his gray trousers were wrinkled, and his auburn hair showed all the times he had run a hand through it.

“I did not,” he repeated grimly, “do anything wrong. I was peaceful until circumstances called for me to defend myself.”

Behind him Dinah continued to pace, her hands on the hips of the blue jogging suit she’d been wearing when Lula Belle called about
Entertainment Tonight
. She hadn’t taken time to change. “You pushed the man’s face into a plate of oysters, Rucker! That’s not self-defense! You didn’t have to touch him! How many more times is my name going to be mentioned on national television because of you?”

“I guess it’d be damned rude to expect you to thank me for what I did today.” His deep, drawling voice was furious. “To thank me for lovin’ you so much that I couldn’t let Norins walk into that restaurant and walk out again without tellin’ him off on your behalf?”

“I love you! I love being protected! But not humiliated! What
did
you say to him?”

“I said—well—basically I said that he had the morals of a piranha. Just stuff like that. Just the truth.”

“What particular remark made him throw the glass at you?”

“I believe it had to do with his hairpiece.”

Dinah stopped pacing long enough to stare in shock at Rucker’s back. “His hairpiece?”

“Yeah. He had one on today, and it was a real stinker. I said … hmmm … basically that when he got even fatter and balder than he is now, I hoped the network kicked his—kicked him into a toilet, where he belongs. That’s when he threw the glass. He’s a vain bastard.”

“And your editor was the one with the raw oysters. The one who slugged Norins in the face?”

“Yeah. Larry.” He paused. “Good old Larry. Didn’t know he had it in him. See, though? I never hit Norins. I kept my promise to you.”

Dinah knew then that she was defeated. Rucker was proud of what he’d done. Worse yet, deep down
she
was proud of what he’d done. She had never loved him so much or been so angry with him as she was right now. He wouldn’t ever truly be repentant for his aggressive ways. He wouldn’t ever stop trying to avenge
her honor and his own guilt. She slumped into a chair and rested her forehead in her hands. It took a second to collect herself for the miserable words she spoke next.

“I think,” she told him hoarsely, “that we shouldn’t see each other anymore, until everything calms down.”

“What?”
She glanced up. He turned away from the window to gaze at her in utter disbelief. “Are you saying we should break up?”

“I’m saying that we need to go separate ways for a little … while. I can’t bear the thought of more publicity like the kind I had today.” She struggled to continue, her voice breaking. “You’ll never change, Rucker. You’ll always act first and think later. I’m just the opposite. I’ve thought … everything out.”

She looked up at him. He was hurt, stunned, and mad. All of that showed in his fierce expression and the stance of his body. A muscle flexed rhythmically in his jaw. “And what other conclusion have you come to?” he asked in a low, strained voice. “That you don’t love me anymore?”

Dinah shook her head slowly, her eyes rebuking him for speaking such nonsense. “Don’t Rucker. This is killing me. I’ll always love you. But I want to be alone until I get my life straightened out again.”

“And just when will that be?” He took a step forward, his hands out in supplication.

Dinah took a deep breath. “When I move back to Atlanta. In about a month. I’ll work until the end of fall quarter—”

“Have you resigned from your job?” The rising fury in his voice frightened her.

“Yes. And I’ve told the city council that I’m resigning as mayor also. Effective at the end of this month.”

“No! No, ma’am, you’re not goin’ to run anymore!”

She stood, trembling all over. “It’s done,” she said grimly. “Done, Rucker. I won’t change my mind.”

“You most certainly will change your mind! I’ve never heard such crap in my life! I’m ashamed of you!”

She gasped. “And I’m ashamed of you!”

Those awful words hung between them like a double-edged knife, cutting both ways. “Damn your time,” he said in a barely audible voice, his hands clenching and unclenching. “If that’s the way you feel, then go ahead and run. Run from everything. Run from everybody who cares about you, includin’ me. Go ahead. I won’t try to stop you anymore.”

Dinah nodded, her throat on fire, all her despair clotting into a thick knot inside her chest. “I’ve been hurt too much in the past Maybe I am running. But it’s the only way I know to protect myself.”

“It’s not the right way.”

“Try to understand. Please.”

“I won’t ever understand.”

“Then … I suppose I’d better just leave.” He didn’t say anything, and she retrieved her purse and coat from the bed. “I’ll call you.”

“Do what you want.”

“I’m going now.”

“Fine.” He threw one hand out in a gesture of dismissal, and his eyes were cold.

Stunned, Dinah went to the door. Despite everything they’d said just now, she prayed for the slightest yielding, the slightest indication on his part that he wanted her to stay, to talk, to work it all out somehow. The signal never came.

“Good-bye,” she finally managed, just mouthing the words because her voice was gone. He turned back toward the window and stood with his head lowered, his hands on his hips. His shoulders flexed harshly as he struggled to take deep breaths. He was still standing there, sorrow tearing him apart, when she left.

It was a sad excuse for a Christmas tree, but it suited her mood precisely. Dinah sat on the couch and looked grimly at the stunted, lopsided pine tree she’d bought from the Kiwanis’s tree lot. Even decorated in beautiful white lights and the fine old ornaments that
she’d kept from a prized collection of her mother’s, it was ugly. Jethro was asleep on the carpet under it, and Nureyev was perched on one of the stronger branches. He kept pecking a crystal reindeer ornament as if he expected it to turn, miraculously, into something edible.