Not Even for Love (6 page)

After he left, she had raced down the stairs, retrieved the note, and held it with shaky fingers as she read:

Sweet (sweeter, sweetest) Jordan,

Forgive me for ducking out without saying good-bye, but you were sleeping so soundly I didn’t have the heart to wake you. (Confession: I peeked under the blanket. Beautiful.) I wanted to check into a room (at the Europa, incidentally) and clean up before presenting myself at your door again. Unfortunately, you have ill-chosen this time to run an errand. I’ll be busy the early part of the evening (business), but if you will keep a light burning, I’ll be by later. (Memories of last night will keep
me
burning.) Until then…

Reeves

Her recent resolve not to see him again evaporated like smoke and vanished into the atmosphere. Somehow she would live through one of Helmut’s “small, intimate cocktail parties” for a “few close friends.” After a reasonable period of time, she would plead a headache and rush home to wait for Reeves. He would ask her if she’d been out. She would tell him about Helmut, but make it clear there was no commitment on her part. He would say that he was glad of that and that he understood. He would take her in his arms. Kiss her.

The best-laid plans of mice and men…

“Make it good, Jordan.” His snarling words snapped her out of the past and into the present. Her dazed eyes focused on him. The wind was whipping his hair into a wild disarray that, combined with the feral gleam in his eyes, made him appear diabolical.

Obviously he thought she was contriving some story about her absence from the shop that afternoon. She answered truthfully. “Yes, I was there, Reeves.” He seemed surprised by her answer and the harsh lines around his mouth softened, but slightly. “At the time, I didn’t think we should see each other again.”

“Oh, I agree,” he said. “It can get sticky when one is marrying one of the world’s richest men and takes a lover at the same time. People talk, you know.”

“No!” She stamped her foot in frustration. “I didn’t know that Helmut was going to announce our engagement tonight.”

“But you were unofficially engaged?”

“No. Well, not exactly…he…”

“Yes?” he cooed, and folded his arms across his chest in an arrogant stance that was most irritating.

She licked her lips and tried to brush back the strands of hair that were whirling around her face. “Be reasonable, Reeves. Can’t you see that I’m not part of that?” she demanded, vaguely gesturing toward the château they had just left.

“But you will be soon. Quite an accomplishment for a shopkeeper from Iowa.”

She ignored the sarcastic barb and went on. “Helmut came into my shop one day to buy a newspaper. We chatted. He was charming, flirtatious. I thought nothing of it. But that evening, just as I was closing, he came back in and invited me out for coffee.”

“Did you know who he was?” he asked incisively.

“I thought I had seen…” she hedged. Then she looked up into the piercing eyes and knew it would be useless to lie, though he would take the truth in the wrong way. “Yes,” she said. “I knew who he was.”

“Uh-huh.”

Some force stronger than her anger kept her from slapping that knowing smirk off his mouth. She swallowed her rage and continued levelly. “For several consecutive days he came into the shop and we talked. Then he invited me to dinner. I went. We began to see each other more often until…”

When she wavered, he pressed her, “Go on, Jordan, I’m fascinated.”

“He began to court me—presents, flowers, expensive trinkets that I neither wanted nor required.”

He leered at her wickedly. “And what did Helmut get in return for these ‘expensive trinkets’?”

“Nothing!” she exclaimed. Just then the boat bumped against the pilings of the quay and she was hurled at him.

His strong arms caught her and pulled her against his chest. The hold wasn’t tender as it had been the night before. His hands were like steel talons on her upper arms and the face that lowered to hers was ugly with disgust. “Do you really think that I’m dense enough to believe that a man as rich and urbane as Helmut Eckherdt hasn’t taken advantage of this?” He thrust himself at her in a manner that left no doubt of his meaning. The implication was insulting and humiliating.

She squirmed and pushed against him. “Let me go,” she said through clenched teeth. “Don’t touch me again.”

The boatman approached them meekly and Reeves slowly disengaged his hands from her arms. She pivoted away, avoiding the boatman’s curious eyes as she picked up her purse. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Reeves sling his camera case over his shoulder.

As soon as she was helped to the quay by the boat’s pilot, Reeves leaped beside her and grabbed her arm again.

“I told you not to touch me,” she said, and tried to jerk her arm free. She could have spared herself the effort. Her strength was no match for his.

“No. I promised Helmut I’d see you to your door, and I never lie.” The veiled accusation wasn’t lost on her and she had a stinging rejoinder forming in her mind when he asked abruptly, “How in the hell do we get to your bookshop from here?”

He was determined to see her home. The best course of action was to go along with him. She nodded in the general direction and said, “Turn left at the second street.”

They walked in silence for several blocks as the streets soon narrowed and became the mazelike alleys where only foot traffic was permitted. Jordan stumbled behind his long, unfaltering strides. Her feet ached abominably, but she’d be damned before she would complain or ask him to slow down.

With relief she saw her shop as they came around the last corner. When they reached the door, Reeves let the strap of his camera case slide down his arm until the bag plopped to the ground. Before she could react, he had nailed her to the stone wall with the pressure of his own body. Her hands were held on either side of her face by his firm grip on her wrists.

“I have to hand it to you, Jordan. You’re quite an actress. Maybe you missed your calling.” His voice was deceptively soft, his breath warm and gently caressing against her cold cheeks. “Those wide gray eyes full of almost virginal timidity. Those sincere declarations that I’d been the only man since—” He broke off abruptly on a bitter note. He threw back his head and squeezed his eyes shut in an agonized expression. “God, what a fool I was,” he laughed mirthlessly.

Then his eyes were hard on her again. His face lowered until only a breath separated them. “I fell for your act hook, line, and sinker.” His eyes roamed over her face, taking in each feature, studying it. “And you’re still playing your charade,” he said huskily. “It’s really quite touching. The shine of tears in those damn gray eyes. The innocent expression. The trembling lips.”

The last words were lost as his mouth descended on hers and moved over it bruisingly. It was a blistering kiss, meant to hurt and debase. But when he felt no resistance, his plundering became persuasion. After only a heartbeat of hesitation, she parted her lips and welcomed the invasion of his tongue. Her wrists were suddenly released from their traps, but she only used that freedom to wrap her hands around his neck and delight in the feel of the hair that lay outside his collar.

He parted her cape and agilely slipped one hand inside. It caressed her waist, squeezing it slightly, appreciating its trim line. Then he moved closer, fitting his body to hers, aligning them in such a way that Jordan responded with a sensual adjustment of her own that took his breath.

Desire curled through her when she felt the strength of his virility through their clothes. Her tongue darted past his lips on a foray of its own. All the ugly accusations he had wrongly thrown at her melted under the heat of his kiss.

His hand stroked its way over her ribs and up to the curve of her breast. He kneaded it gently as his thumb lazily circled the rigid nipple under the silky fabric. He continued this heavenly torment as his lips pressed hot kisses into the curve of her shoulder left bare by her gown. His lips nibbled their way down her arm, pressed a kiss in the bend of her elbow, and then lifted her palm to receive a tribute from his mouth.

She reclined against the wall and sighed, touching his hair affectionately. Smiling up at him slumberously, she watched him as he turned her hand over. He looked at the diamond ring.

In a voice as hard and cold as the jewel he said, “You see, Jordan. The only thing that separates you from the girls who sell their wares on street corners is the price you demand.”

It took a moment for the words to sink in. They were so out of context with the soft caresses and the soothing voice that their meaning eluded her. When it registered with her passion-fogged mind, she thought the pain in her chest would surely kill her. She would die with his scathing insult as her eulogy.

But the cold reality of what he had said jolted her out of her lethargy like an icy bath. He was still holding her left hand as he smiled down at her smugly. Her right hand arced and met his cheek in a resounding slap.

For a moment he was stunned. There was no reaction. Then the fury filled his face with such terrible intent that Jordan thought he might very well murder her. Instead, he flung himself away.

Without a backward glance or another word, he hoisted the camera case over his shoulder and stalked away into the night shadows.

“English newsstand,” Jordan answered the telephone the next day at midmorning.

“Hello, darling,” Helmut said with his smooth, cultured voice. “How are you this morning? Did you enjoy the party held in your honor last night?”

“Hello, Helmut,” she said. “I can only talk for a minute. I have some customers. Yes, I enjoyed the party very much. I only wish we had had time to discuss—”

“I know what you’re going to say, and I apologize for taking matters into my own hands. I have discovered through my business dealings that when one is faced with a reluctant client one sometimes has to force the issue. Usually with rewarding results, as in this instance.”

“No, Helmut. We need to—”

“Just a moment, dear. What was that, Reeves?”

Reeves was with Helmut and listening to their conversation! Anger made her hand tremble. The man was impossible. “Jordan, Reeves says ‘good morning’ and hopes that your feet aren’t still hurting you.” Helmut chuckled into the receiver.

Reeves had known that her feet were hurting her last night as he practically ran her home. “My feet are fine,” she grated. “I really have to go now, Helmut.” She wasn’t about to discuss personal matters over the telephone with Helmut while she knew Reeves was listening avidly to every word with that knowing, derisive expression on his face.

“One more thing, darling, before you hang up. Reeves is going to follow me around most of the day, taking pictures in the office and at the board meeting this afternoon. Tonight he wants to take pictures of us in a relaxed, typically Swiss setting. I thought we’d take him to Stadtkeller. It’s for tourists, I know, but it’s certainly Swiss!”

“That sounds marvelous and I’m sure Mr. Grant will enjoy it, but I must decline. I—”

“Nonsense. He specifically asked that you go with us. He wants you in most of the pictures since you will soon be my wife.”

Damn! Reeves was instigating a farcical situation. He must adore Neil Simon plays. She and Helmut were now the unwilling players in such a comedy. “Helmut, please. I—”

“Is there something wrong, Jordan?” Helmut’s cheerful voice changed to one of concern. “You sound distressed this morning. Aren’t you well? Perhaps I should come over and—”

“No!” she said sharply. The last thing she wanted was for Reeves to know that he had upset her. And she didn’t want Helmut to see the violet shadows under her eyes that testified to a sleepless night. He might jump to all the wrong conclusions. He would demand an explanation for her obvious depression. He would never understand that she only wished to be left alone. But he
would
understand a simpering female, which she knew he thought her to be.

“No, nothing’s really wrong,” she said, softening her voice to a childish whimper. “It’s just that I was deliberating on what to wear tonight. I’ve never had my picture taken by a photographer with a reputation as renowned as Mr. Grant’s.” She virtually choked on the ridiculous words, but Helmut laughed into the phone.

“She’s worried over what to wear,” she heard him say to Reeves. Her slender fingers around the old-fashioned telephone tightened in agitation. “Darling, you’ll look beautiful in anything, but keep it casual tonight. We’ll be by to pick you up around eight. Things won’t really be jumping at Stadkeller until then. Good-bye for now.” He hung up before she could reply. As was Helmut’s habit, when he finished speaking he considered the conversation to be concluded.

She replaced the telephone under the counter and tallied up the purchases of the middle-aged couple from Sioux Falls, South Dakota. The lady was buying two Agatha Christie mysteries and a copy of
The Sensuous Woman
. He had a James Bond book, a
Mad
magazine, and yesterday’s
Chicago Tribune
. Would wonders never cease?

Desultorily, Jordan went through the day. Business was steady if not heavy. This was the end of September and the summer tourist season was waning. It wouldn’t pick up again until those who came for winter sports passed through Lucerne. She sold newspapers, maps, paperbacks, magazines, and journals. She listened to tales of woe about the shortage of ice in virtually all of Europe, the taste and gastric dangers of the drinking water, the narrow roads (where were the interstate highways?), and the crazy way these “foreigners” drove an automobile. Sometimes Jordan hated to acknowledge her fellow countrymen. Too often they were brash, rude, critical, and ignorant to the point of hilarity.

At six o’clock she locked the door, put her CLOSED sign in the window, and pulled down the shade on the glass door. Wearily she trudged upstairs. She had two hours to prepare herself for the ordeal of the evening ahead but wasn’t sure she would ever be ready for it.

She soaked in the deep, narrow tub. Unconsciously, she wondered how Reeves managed to fit his broad shoulders in most of the bath tubs in Europe and then decided that he probably took showers.