LovePlay (13 page)

“Did he upset you?” he asked, as if he meant to go out and pound Cul to a pulp. That would have been interesting to watch, considering that David was half Cul’s size and temperament.

“He offered to marry me,” she said.

He gaped. “Well?”

“I said no,” she told him.

“Idiot! It would have solved all your problems!”

“It would have created more,” she said flatly. She leaned back against the sofa, feeling vaguely nauseated and frankly tired. “He still won’t believe it’s his child. How can I marry a man who only offers out of misplaced pity? No, thanks. Things are bad enough already.” She looked around her. “I guess I’ll have to go and live at the women’s mission….”

“No!” He was horrified.

“Don’t worry, I was just kidding. There are Christian homes for people like me. I’ll find something.”

David stood up, looking formidable. “I’ll kill him.”

“Too easy,” she replied. Her eyes closed. “I just need some rest, I’ll think up something in the morning. There’s bound to be something I’m able to do, you know.”

He looked more concerned than ever. “Well, get some sleep. Janet and I will see what we can come up with. Dick’s really sorry about it.”

“I’m an actress,” she reminded him. “I understand.”

“You know what a marshmallow he is under all the gruffness. He’s sick about it.”

So was she, but she put on her bravest smile and reassured David that she was going to be fine. But when he left, the gloom seemed to settle over everything. Things had never looked so utterly hopeless.

It was almost midnight when Janet and David came by the apartment. Janet looked flushed and happy and David looked stunned. There were definite undercurrents, but Bett pretended not to notice. She curled up on the sofa in her faded green bathrobe and listened to Janet’s excited offer.

“One of my clients, Lovewear, is bringing out a line of maternity clothes,” Janet said enthusiastically. “But they’d like to have a really pregnant woman model them. If you think you could do it, I could tell them for you and lay some groundwork.”

Bett only smiled. Her bubbly friend couldn’t begin to understand the complications of mingled pregnancy and anemia.

“Dear friend,” she said gently, “I love you. But if I can’t stand on stage to act, I certainly can’t stand to model.”

Janet let out a sigh. “No. I forgot. I guess I take it so for granted that I don’t realize how tiring it is. And in your condition… I just wanted to help.”

“And you have. By caring about me. Want some coffee?” she offered.

“No,” David answered for her. He caught Janet’s hand and pulled her up with him, his eyes lingering for a minute longer than necessary on her upturned face. “We, uh, have someplace to go.”

“Yes,” Janet faltered. She shifted restlessly, firing a nervous glance at Bett.

Bett grinned. “Have fun.”

Janet visibly relaxed. On a nonverbal level, she’d asked if Bett minded that she was getting involved with David, and Bett had reassured her, all without a single word being spoken. And without dear David even realizing what was going on around him.

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” Janet promised.

“We will,” David amended with a grin. “Get some sleep, Bett.”

“Sure. Bye.”

She locked the door behind them. Well, at least someone’s life was getting better. She was delighted that her two best friends were finding they had more in common than just Bett.

As expected, Dick Hamilton turned up early the following morning. But he came with an unexpected proposition.

“The production company is going to absorb your medical bills,” Dick told her with a grin. “And we’re going to let you continue, with the understanding that if you feel you can’t keep up the pace, you let your understudy take over for you, as she did last night.”

She could have bawled. “Oh, Dick, but I can’t let you…”

“It was my idea,” he said firmly, watching her face. “You’re so good in that role that no one can replace you without forcing us to close down. The public pays to see you, and only you. So we’re going to make sure you have the best medical care available, even a doctor on the set if you need one. How about it?”

She laughed softly. “You can’t imagine how worried I was…”

“I think I have a pretty good idea. Get some rest. But first, call the doctor and make an appointment.”

“I can go on tonight,” she said, smiling. “I’m much better, really. I’ve got all kinds of food in the refrigerator and I’ve been eating,” she confessed sheepishly. She bit her lip as she realized what she was rervealing. Probably he knew that Cul had brought her some badly needed groceries. With her medical expenses covered, she could afford to feed herself properly.

“We think of you as an investment, you know,” Dick told her before he left. “A very nice one, and you’re paying off better than you know. But besides all that, we care about you. I wish I’d known sooner that you were pinching pennies. I’d have done something about it.”

“I didn’t want to bother anyone,” she said.

He shook his head. “Women!” He threw up his hands. “See you later, kid.”

She felt a new energy flowing through her in the days that followed. The expensive prenatal vitamins her obstetrician had prescribed, along with her new and more than adequate diet, got her back to work and on the road to recovery. What a stroke of luck, she thought, that the production people had decided to subsidize her. She almost suspected Cul, but she was sure her attitude had convinced him to give up trying to help her.

At least, until a week had gone by. Late one afternoon he showed up at her door with a huge box under one arm while she was resting.

“You look better,” he said, studying her in the faded green bathrobe she was wearing over a long cotton gown.

She put a slender hand to her tangled hair and moved it away from her face. “I feel better, thanks.”

He came inside, wearing jeans and a pullover shirt that was as green as his eyes. “I brought you something.” He held the box out to her.

She eyed him suspiciously. “Why are you bringing me presents?”

“It’s from the whole production company,” he said, shrugging. “Dick’s idea,” he added, watching her through narrowed eyes so that he caught the faint gleam of disappointment in her dark eyes before they lowered to the box.

She opened it and found three maternity outfits inside, all very chic and pretty and just her size. She held up a cream and beige one, a skirt and overblouse combination with a jabot collar. “It’s lovely,” she said breathlessly, and laughed. “Oh, how sweet of them! You know, I’ve been buying my things from yard sales….”

His face went hard and he turned away, his hands jammed deep in the pockets of his jeans. “We thought you might like something new to wear.”

She glanced at his rigid back. “Would you like some coffee?” she asked.

“I’ll make it,” he murmured gruffly. “Your idea of coffee is hot water with a drop of brown food color in it.”

“Coffee is expensive!” she shot at him.

He whirled. “Then I’ll buy it for you!” he rejoined. “God, you exasperate me! It’s a fight all the way to do anything for you.”

“I’m proud,” she replied coldly. “I don’t want charity from you. I don’t want anything from you!”

“Not even the baby you’re carrying?” he asked quietly.

“It isn’t yours, remember?” she asked, her smile plainly malicious. “You said so.”

She looked cold. All the lovely color had drained from her face, the bright joy of the gifts siphoned off like water from a silver bowl.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, his deep voice echoing around the room. “I didn’t come to upset you.”

That was new. Cul never apologized. Perhaps one of his women was busy reforming him.

She sat down on the arm of the sofa and touched her pretty new things, smiling softly. “I can wear one of these to church on Sunday,” she remarked absently.

“I didn’t know you went.”

“I didn’t used to,” she agreed. “Mr. Batholomew decided that it might help my outlook, so he bundled me up one Sunday and took me with him.”

He glared at her. “I don’t like that.”

She glared back. “I can go to church if I want!

His eyes glittered at her as he turned from the coffeepot he’d filled and started perking. “If you want to go to church, I’ll take you.”

Her eyebrows lifted. “You wouldn’t know what the inside of a church looked like.”

“So I’ll find out,” he returned. “That off-key baritone has no business hanging around you!”

“Suppose it’s his baby?” she asked sweetly.

He ran a furious hand through his thick blond hair. “Give me strength,” he muttered. “Of course it’s not his baby!”

She clicked her tongue and folded her arms over her breasts. “You’re narrowing down the possibilities,” she said disapprovingly. “Before long, you’ll run out of possible fathers. Just think what an exciting christening it’s going to be,” she mused, smiling. “David and Mr. Bartholomew, the hot dog man, the mailman…”

He moved toward her with eyes that blazed, and before she could retreat, he had her up in his hard arms. Amazing, she thought through her apprehension, how strong he was.

“I could…” he said through his teeth.

“You could what?” she asked, staring up at him.

His expression wavered between words and actions. “Elisabet,” he said in a voice husky with strain and frustration. And then his mouth covered hers.

She wanted to struggle, but she was afraid she might make him drop her, and that wouldn’t be good for the child he didn’t think he’d fathered. So she let him kiss her, lying acquiescent in his strong arms while his mouth took a slow, fierce toll of her soft lips.

“This won’t solve anything, Cul,” she whispered into his mouth as it lifted just slightly to catch a breath.

“It might stop the ache,” he whispered back. His cheek nuzzled hers as he dropped down onto the sofa with Bett across his lap.

“Don’t you have enough women to do that?” she asked accusingly.

He looked down into her dark, quiet eyes and smiled. “I’d say there’s a lack of trust on your part as well as mine, wouldn’t you?” His hand slid from her cheek to her shoulder and lifted, to follow the path of his eyes to the slight swell of her stomach. He touched her there and she stiffened.

“No, don’t fight me,” he said, his voice quiet, almost tender. “I don’t have to tell you how I feel about pregnancy. All my adult life, I’ve wanted a child of my own. But I’ve never touched a pregnant woman. I’ve never seen one, not close, like this. I want to know everything.” His eyes watched his hand moving, and he talked as if he were talking to himself. “I want to know everything about it. How it feels, how it looks. I want to know the changes it makes.”

“You could go to medical school,” she suggested with her last vestige of protective humor. The sound of his voice, the seductive touch of his tanned fingers was robbing her of her defenses.

His hand spread, covering the firm mound, warm and oddly protective. “How does it feel?” he asked, lifting his eyes back to hers.

“I’m sick most of the time.” She averted her eyes to his broad chest, to its quick rise and fall under the soft knit of his green shirt. “I tire easily. It’s hard to stay awake at night. I’m very sore in certain places.”

“Where?”

She touched her breasts. “They swell. And there’s the heartburn… I think it’s the worst of all.”

“How does it feel?” he persisted, stressing the word as he searched her eyes.

“Marvelous, darling,” she breathed. “The most awesome experience I’ve ever had. In a few months, he’ll begin to move, and then he’ll be born, and I can hold him, touch him. I won’t be alone anymore, ever. I’ll belong to someone. I’ll have someone who belongs to me.” She sighed quietly and smiled. “You don’t understand that, do you, Cul? Belonging, I mean. You’ve never really wanted that kind of closeness and commitment. You’ve been single all your life, and you like it.”

“I want a family,” he returned curtly.

“No,” she argued. “I don’t think you really do. I think you like believing that bull about being sterile. Because it protects you from getting involved. It’s your security.”

“You’re out of your mind,” he said, his voice cutting. He stood up, moving away to light a cigarette. Funny, she thought, watching, she hadn’t seen him smoke in a long time.

“Am I?” she demanded, standing. “I’ve hit on it, haven’t I? Your terrible secret. You can’t let yourself admit that this is your baby, because then all the walls would come down around you. You’d have to prove that you really wanted that family you claim you covet, the security of marriage. And you couldn’t, could you? It would involve something you know nothing about—giving!”

“I’m no miser,” he began, facing her.

“Emotionally, you are,” she corrected. She linked her hands behind her to study his rigid figure. He had a perfect physique, she thought dreamily, and had to mentally shake herself to get back to reality. “No caring man could have done to me what you did in Atlanta,” she said. “You humiliated me in front of the whole cast, and you knew you were doing it. You said it was to save me from a childless relationship with no hope of marriage, but that wasn’t really true. It was to save yourself.”

He sighed roughly. “No.”

“Yes, darling. Even when we started getting involved here, you fought it every step of the way. It was desire that propelled you into my bed, Cul, not undying love and devotion. I mistook it for that. But one phone call to California gave me the proof of your devotion. Cherrie, wasn’t it…?”

“She was just another girl,” he murmured. “And we didn’t…”

“Didn’t you?” she asked, her eyes unbelieving. “I called to tell you I was pregnant, and you went through the roof. It wasn’t yours, you were sure. Even though you knew,” she stressed fiercely, “that I was too much in love with you to let another man make love to me. You knew that! But you gave me hell for accusing you of being my child’s father.”

“I’m not,” he said huskily.

“Poor Cul.” She shook her head. “You’ve grown so accustomed to your own company that you don’t want any intruders in your life. You won’t trust anyone enough to love them. Or be loved by them. You say you want a child, but you don’t. You don’t want anyone, Cul. Because love demands unselfishness and blind trust—two qualities you simply don’t possess.”