Secrets (31 page)

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Authors: Brenda Joyce

BOOK: Secrets
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Truthfully she answered, “I couldn't sleep.”

He stared at her, removing his tie. Watching him, desire sprang forth so intensely that Regina felt weak-kneed. When she was in his arms all of reality's harshness was stripped away. His embrace was a sanctuary,
the rest of the world vanishing into irrelevance. She felt desperation wash over her, a desperate need to fuse with him, to be reassured and healed. But she did not move.

He slipped the tie from his neck and began unbuttoning his shirt, not taking his eyes from her. Regina hugged herself. “How—how was your day?”

“Rotten.”

She bit her lip. She knew her father very well. She had worried all day that he had gone to confront Slade with his demands for a divorce and with his heartfelt threats. Such a scenario horrified her. She could so easily imagine the two men she loved most in the world casting furious words at each other and then resorting to physical blows. “Wh-what happened?”

“Do you know that your father's in town?”

“Slade,” she cried. She rushed to him. When she put her arms around him, holding him as tightly as she could, he responded just as passionately, hugging her hard in return. “Father went to see you?” She lifted her face from his chest.

“I don't want to talk,” he said. Abruptly he caught her face in his hands and began kissing her. Her body, already weak, shuddered under his onslaught. Slade's tongue determinedly sought out hers. A second later he had her in his arms and then they were on the bed.

“I missed you,” Regina cried as he opened her dressing robe and, untying the ribbon straps, slid her nightgown down to her waist. Hot kisses fell across her bare skin, her breasts and nipples.

“I missed you too,” Slade returned, his hands intently moving up her legs beneath her thin silk nightgown.

Their eyes caught and held. Regina was instantly breathless. Slade desired her so greatly she did not think it possible for him not to love her a little. And maybe, just maybe, he loved her with some of the same kind of passion he felt for her physically.

They kissed. Slade fumbled between them, unbuttoning his pants. Laughing, hysterically happy, Regina
helped him. She guided his shaft toward her. A moment later Slade was moving deep inside her while she gripped him blindly, oblivious now to everything except the moment and the man she loved.

Her release came so quickly, with such force, it took her by surprise. Slade made a sound both sexual and triumphant. An instant later he was crying out in abandon, in a way she had never heard him before.

They held each other. Regina lay blissfully in her husband's arms. Then reality began to intrude. Painfully. She did not want to be reminded of the day's events, or of anything else, but it was impossible not to be. She stared at the ceiling, no longer happy.

Slade stood and shed his shoes and clothes. He twisted to look at her, somber.

Regina swallowed, adjusting her nightgown. “Did Father call on you?”

Slade's jaw flexed. “I wouldn't exactly say it was a social call.”

“What happened?”

“We had a chat.”

She could read nothing in his inscrutable expression. “Father came here also. He isn't happy with our marriage, not right now, but he will come around eventually.” She heard herself; she did not sound confident.

“Will he?”

“Yes, he will, I am sure of it!”

Slade sat down on the bed. “Why are you trembling? Why are you close to tears? What did he say to you?”

She did not want to tell him the truth, hoping that her father had not made the same demands on Slade as he had on her, even though it was doubtful. “I have never seen him so angry. I d-did not expect him to be so angry.”

He stared at her.

She managed a smile. “It's natural for him to be angry, and it's natural for me to be upset. Please don't worry about Father, p-please.”

“You are such a diplomat.”

“No, I'm not.”

“You are obviously worried about him, obviously very distressed.”

“I'm not worried. Not really. It is stressful, but that's all.”

“Is that all?”

“Yes!”

“Don't lie to me, Regina.”

She winced.

“I don't like coming between you and your father, I don't like it one damn bit.”

Her eyes widened. “Slade, Father and I have a good relationship. This will pass. Maybe not as quickly as I'd hoped, but it will pass.”

“Somehow you don't seem confident.”

She did not respond. He was right. She wasn't confident. She had never disobeyed her father before, had never seen him angry with her, and wasn't sure how it would all turn out. But she must never let Slade see her doubts. She changed the topic. “
Your
father was also here today.”

Slade's eyes widened. “What the hell did he want?”

“Slade! He wants you to come home. He wants
us
to come home.”

“He ask you to tell me that?”

“Actually, he did, but I told him he had better speak for himself. I thought you would want to know that he was here, and why.”

“Don't get involved.”

She stiffened. “Don't get involved? I'm your wife!”

He pulled the covers up over them both, his eyes dark. “Regina, you
are
my wife, but that doesn't give you the right to meddle.”


Meddle?

“I don't even want to think about Rick right now,” Slade snapped. “And if he has something to say to me he can damn well say it himself.”

Regina was silent, hurt. But she was also angry. She sat up abruptly. “Your father loves you, Slade. The two of you must work things out, or living at Miramar will be a nightmare.”

Slade was incredulous. “I just told you not to meddle!”

She hugged herself, teary-eyed. “What is it you expect of me, Slade? To warm your bed? Obviously. To run your home? Obviously. But not to become involved in your family—or with you?”

He threw off the covers and stood up. “What the hell does that mean?”

“It means exactly what I said.” She was defiant. “You want me to be a housekeeper and a mistress, but nothing more.”

He stared at her. It was a long moment before he could speak. “Just what is it you want to be to me, Regina?”

Now she cried. “If you don't know, then I am not going to tell you.”

He watched her cover her face with her hands, then he said, very quietly, “Just what is it you want me to be?”

She was incapable of responding. Slade left the room. He did not return until after she had fallen asleep.

 

It was the day before the gala. Regina paced nervously in the salon. She hoped she was doing the right thing. She was afraid that the evening would turn out to be a disaster. For she had invited her parents for supper.

She had not seen her father since his arrival in town, which had been the very same day that he had confronted her and demanded that she leave Slade. But she had seen her mother every day since then. So Regina knew that Nicholas was still adamantly opposed to her marriage.

Jane had been the one to suggest a small, intimate gathering for the four of them. “You cannot let this impasse with your father continue, dear,” she had said. Jane was always sensible. “Perhaps if Nicholas gets to know Slade he will change his opinion of him.”

Her mother was privy to all of Regina's feelings. They had always been close, now more so than ever. Regina
was thrilled when Jane had come to see her the next day and had confided in her instantly, not just about her love for Slade, but her doubts about him, too. Jane seemed certain that all would work out for the best. “If he does not want your money, darling, he must be seriously in love with you.”

It did not seem possible that Jane was right. If so, then why was there this increasingly apparent gulf between them?

Slade and Regina had spent the past few days tiptoeing around each other and carefully avoiding the subjects threatening their marriage. Slade was spending more time at the office, leaving earlier and coming home later, which decreased the waking moments they spent together. Since they still made love each night, the time available for conversation had diminished considerably. There was less chance to venture into dangerous territory. Regina could not blame Slade. She also did not want to discuss anything right now which would upset their marriage any further.

Slade knew she had invited her parents for supper. She had found a moment to tell him last night. He had accepted it rather stoically. He had promised to be on his best behavior.

“That's not necessary, Slade,” Regina had told him.

He lifted a brow. “You have my promise, Regina. Come what may.”

His words left her with a bad feeling, one which haunted her all that next day.

Nicholas and Jane arrived promptly, as Regina had expected. She was very nervous. She hovered behind Brinks as he took her mother's coat, regarding her father anxiously. He was watching her just as intently.

“Thank you for coming, Father.”

“Why would I refuse an invitation from my own daughter?”

“You're not still angry?”

“I
am
angry. But not as much as I am hurt.” His eyes were dark. “I still cannot believe you ordered me from your home.”

“I can barely believe it myself,” she whispered. “Please, let's try to have a pleasant evening.”

“I did not come here to wage war.”

Regina sincerely hoped not. “Let's sit in the salon while we wait for Slade.”

They followed her into the salon. “He's not here?” Jane asked.

“Earlier today he sent me a message that he might be detained a bit, but that he would try to be on time.”

“Does he know that we are your guests?” Nicholas asked dryly.

“Yes, Father. I would not do something behind my husband's back that had the potential of upsetting him.”

Nicholas sighed. “Regina, when will you come to your senses? Every day that you stay with him will only make it more difficult for you to finally leave.”

Her spirits crashed. “Are we going to argue over this again? Tonight? You met Slade. Couldn't you see what a fine, responsible man he is?”

“He was not exactly what I expected,” Nicholas admitted. “But he cannot give you the kind of life I know you need.”

“How poorly you think of me!” Regina cried.

“I know my own daughter,” Nicholas flared. “I know you will not be happy living at that Miramar! Were you or were you not unhappy, bored, and restless every time we resided in the country at Dragmore?”

Regina bit her lip. “But that was different! That was before I fell in love with a man whose entire life is wrapped up in his home!”

Jane intervened. “Nicholas, you do know your daughter, of course you do. But daughters grow up and become women. Regina has grown up. It's so very obvious. She has led a perfectly charmed existence because we were determined that she have everything she could possibly want. Now she has had to face adversity and make difficult choices. You should be proud of her, darling. Your daughter is selflessly in love with Slade Delanza, and willing to support him in whatever he has to do.”

Nicholas grunted. “I am proud of you, Regina, you know that.”

“No, Father, I don't know that. It seems to me that you are angry with me and grievously disappointed.”

“I am angry that you have chosen a husband without my consent. I am disappointed that you would think so lightly of my opinion. I do not want you to make the biggest mistake of your life.”

“I'm not. I assure you.”

“I am not at all convinced, as your mother is, that you really love this man, having seen you infatuated a dozen times since you came out of short skirts. I am certainly not convinced that you love this man enough to give up all you are accustomed to.”

Regina hesitated. This was her chance. She seized it. “Father, I don't have to give up all that I am accustomed to. Not if you would give me my inheritance.”

Nicholas was silent.

“Father, we need that money, we truly do!”

“That is obvious.”

“Do I have to beg?” Regina cried. “What do I have to do to convince you to give us my inheritance? Please, Father, please!”

Nicholas regarded her intently. A sound from the doorway made them all turn. Regina was surprised to see Slade standing there, not having heard him approach She rushed to him. Seeing that he was rigid, she grew apprehensive. How much of her argument with her father had he overheard?

“Darling,” she cried, taking his hand, “I'm so glad you could come home early after all!”

His glance flicked to hers. Regina stiffened. There was no warmth in his eyes; in fact, Slade seemed to be holding back his anger with a considerable effort. “Come,” she said, faltering. At all cost, they must present a united front to her parents. “I know you and Father have met, but I think we should redo the introductions. And you have never met my mother.”

Slade said nothing, allowing her to lead him forward. As Regina introduced Jane, she stole worried glances at
him. Maybe she had imagined his anger. His face was expressionless, his thoughts unfathomable.

“Father,” she said anxiously, “would you and Slade please at least exchange gentlemanly handshakes?”

Nicholas's jaw tensed, but he extended his hand. “Hello, Delanza.”

Slade took it, equally wary. “Shelton. Welcome to our humble home.”

 

“You're angry with me.”

In his shirtsleeves now that her parents had left, Slade folded his arms, and leaned against the door to the salon. “Now what makes you think that?” he said coldly.

She tensed. She had known he was angry all night. But he was more than angry, for he had studied her as one would an odd, just-discovered specimen under a microscope. Indeed, he had studied them all. And he had not spoken except when spoken to. Regina had done her best to carry the conversation, helped by her mother. Nicholas had also said little, intent on assessing Slade. The evening had been an unmitigated disaster, with Slade truly seeming to be nothing short of a boor.

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