Charles slowed the car to enter the underground garage beneath Diane’s high-rise condominium complex. He parked in the space beside her red Buick Skylark.
“Are you sure you want to be bothered? Packing is no fun,” Diane said as she searched for her keys in the bottom of her shoulder bag.
“Why would I mind?” Charles opened her door before he went to retrieve the empty suitcases from the trunk.
“I guess I was a little surprised that you volunteered to help and wanted to stay the night at the condo. I really only needed enough to wear to work tomorrow. I can always come back.”
He pressed the button for the elevator. “Baby, you’re forgetting something, aren’t you? You no longer have just yourself to depend on. We’re a team.” His hand rested on her nape. He worried the soft skin as the elevator climbed toward the tenth floor.
Diane was tense as she let them inside her one-bedroom condo. She busied herself switching on lamps and opening the glass doors to let in some fresh air.
It was as she’d left it, spotlessly neat except for the fine layer of dust that had accumulated since she’d been away. Butter-soft beige leather armchairs faced a matching sofa, positioned on a large beige, rust, and blue Oriental rug. Crystal lamps with pinch-pleated oat-colored shades stood on glass end tables. The walls were lined with pale pine bookshelves. One wall was dominated by a huge oil of the Sahara with Black African nomads seated on camels.
“I always liked that painting,” Charles murmured thoughtfully.
Diane said absently, “Honey, would you check the refrigerator? I’m sure I cleared it out. But I was in such a rush to get out of here. Who remembers?”
While he headed for her sunny gold-and-beige kitchen, Diane hurried into the bedroom. She raced for the answering machine on the nightstand. She popped out the tape of incoming messages and had barely tucked it into the zipper compartment of her purse when she heard her husband’s voice behind her.
“Refrigerator is fine, nothin’ but beverages in the bottom, but the freezer is packed.”
“Good,” she said, dropping her purse on the floor and moving toward the dresser.
“Where should I put this?” he asked, referring to the empty cases. The things she had taken with her on the trip had been stored in the huge walk-in closet of the bedroom she now shared with her husband.
“The armchair is fine.” Diane sorted through a rainbow of lace bikini panties and bras.
“Why not donate the frozen food to one of the homeless shelters?”
“What a great idea!” she exclaimed, recalling the kindness she had been shown when she was a teenager living in the YWCA, after she had left home for good. Her boss at the diner had made sure she had plenty of food between her shifts. “I think I have another suitcase in the bottom of the closet.”
“I’ll get it.”
She studied the pale pine queen-sized bed, which was covered with a gold floral comforter and dust ruffle. Lace-edged pillow shams were propped against the headboard. She decided they were much too feminine to use in their bedroom. Maybe in one of the guestrooms? Surely all of them didn’t have king-sized beds?
“Now, what do you want me to do?”
“Would you pull out my navy suit, the red suit with black trim, the cream wool suit, and the melon suit from the closet?” Diane laughed at his befuddled look. “In the left side of the closet are suits and dresses. Honey, pick any you like.”
“Melon? What kinda color is that?”
“Orange,” she called after him, laughing. Working together, they soon filled all the suitcases.
“Charles, about your sister...” she began, only to be interrupted by him.
“Leave Eliz to me.”
Diane couldn’t help feeling responsible. She couldn’t just sit back and let their closeness vanish. “Your sister didn’t mean any harm. Honey, please, you have to give her time to adjust to our marriage.”
She knew that once Charles had an idea in his head, it was damn near impossible to change his mind. Not so long ago, his mule-headedness had been directed her way. It had taken hard work and persistence to convince him he’d been wrong about her. Diane was frightened that his stubbornness could cause a lasting rift in his relationship with Elizabeth.
“My sister was quick to judge, and damn rude.”
“She was being protective of you. She adores you, honey.”
“Di, love isn’t the issue. I didn’t pick her husband for her. I had faith in her judgment. Nevertheless, I kept my thoughts to myself. I expect the same respect from her.” Diane paused in her folding and found that he’d made himself comfortable on the bed. She laughed. “What happened to teamwork?”
He shrugged. “You know, I’ve often fantasized about being here in your bed with you.” His lids were half closed, heavy with desire.
“Fantasized, about me?”
“Often.”
“I never suspected it.”
“I didn’t want you to know. I had it bad for you, baby. I ached to be inside you,” he confessed, his voice gruff with desire.
Diane blushed. “When did you have these fantasies?”
“All the time...” He chuckled. “During teacher’s meetings. At lunch, sitting across from you.” He confessed softly, “I couldn’t seem to think of anything but how much I wanted you.”
“So while Mrs. Slivers was going on and on about raising test scores you were thinking about... making love?”
“Absolutely.”
She giggled. “Have you no shame?”
“Not when it comes to you.” He surprised her even more when he confessed, “I wanted you so badly that I gave up sex entirely when I couldn’t have you.”
“You’ve been celibate?”
“For almost three years. Even before I left Lawrence.”
“You are so wonderful,” she whispered. She would have never suspected it. He was the only man who’d ever made her feel safe. He didn’t view her as some kind of a beautiful plastic doll without a brain in her head because of the way she looked. She had always been free to be herself around him.
“I love you,” she said, looking down into his eyes.
“I love you... so give.”
“Huh?”
“When are you gonna tell me what’s bothering you?”
“What are you talking about?” Her legs were so wobbly that she sank down onto the foot of the bed.
“You’ve been jittery ever since we left the house. Yet you won’t talk about it.” When she started to protest, he held up his hand. “I know we’ve been married less than a week, but give me some credit. We’ve been together twenty-four hours a day. I know something is wrong.”
Diane nervously twisted her wedding rings. Finally, she blurted out the first plausible explanation that popped into her head. “I hate the way you let your sister leave today. It was wrong to expect her to be pleased that we’re married. All she knows about me is what you told her... and it wasn’t complimentary.”
“Did you think I would sit back and let her hurt your feelings?”
“Charles, I’ll get over it. I’m not made of glass.”
“You shouldn’t have to take that kind of stuff from her. You’re my wife. That’s all she needs to know.”
“Why are you so stubborn? Were you born with this horrible trait?”
“Yeah. Just lucky, I guess,” he grinned.
“Lucky! You’re like a dog with a bone when you get some stupid idea in your head. You were wrong about me, remember?”
“I don’t like to think about how cruel I was. I hurt you.”
“You were hurting, too. I can understand that now. Honey, Eliz is your baby sister. I know how much you love her. That’s all that should matter. You two are family.”
“No one is more important to me than you are, Mrs. Randol!”
Elizabeth certainly was not high on Diane’s list of wonderful people, but she was Charles’s sister, which meant she mattered to him. Diane felt compelled to say, “Honey, Eliz wasn’t on our honeymoon. The last she heard, I hurt her big brother. It took us time to work things out. Give her some time to adjust to our marriage.”
“Okay.” Tired of the subject, he said, “Remember that first night when you sent that drink over? Were you scared?”
“Terrified.”
“I wanted you so badly my teeth ached.”
“What I remember was that you were so ticked you couldn’t see straight.” Diane found she could laugh about it now.
“Nevertheless, I was thrilled to see you.”
“Oh, yeah?” she teased. “I expected you to throw that drink in my face.”
“I was rude, but not quite that crude.”
“All I could think about was you telling me you didn’t want anything to do with me... ever.”
“Giving you up was the most difficult thing I’ve ever done. Did Heather tell you I was in love with you? Is that why you came?”
Diane gasped. “Heather knew how you felt?”
“Of course. She’s my best friend. My sister knew, as well.”
Diane groaned, certain Elizabeth was bound to hate her for life.
“I’m shocked you hadn’t guessed.”
“I had no idea. Honey, I’m so glad.”
“I wanted you then almost as much as I want you now.” His body throbbed with the potency of his need for her. Charles’s breath quickened at the rawness of his desire. He had it bad. He was worse than a starving man at a banquet. He couldn’t seem to stay away from her. “Are you, too sore, baby? Because I want to love you right here in your bed... love you the way I’ve fantasized.”
Diane was trembling with the sweet expectation of his lovemaking. His name was a husky whisper issued from her throat.
His smoldering gaze stroked her soft brown length. His woman was all satin-smooth skin and soft, sexy curves, but she was more than that: she was warmth and love. She was excitement and joy. She was his friend and his companion. She was comfort and titillation.
Diane couldn’t believe her own boldness as she stood up, unashamed to untie the sash at her waist and let the cream wrap dress drop to the floor. She wanted to feel his hot, dark eyes all over her body. She was as hungry for him as he was for her.
She watched as he stripped then reclined on the bed, his skin dark and enticing against her pale gold sheets.
“One of us is wearing too many clothes.”
“Think so?” she whispered as she went to him. She encircled his waist, pressing her face between the place where his shoulder and neck joined.
He kissed the base of her neck while unhooking the front clasp of her bra. “I hate this thing.” He flung it away. His hand claimed the bounty he’d bared. He caressed her softness before eventually sliding his thumbs beneath the waistband of her lace panties. They went the way of the bra, onto the carpet.
He rained kisses over her perfect features, from her eyelids down her nose to her mouth. He traced the shape of her generous bottom lip with the tip of his tongue. “Can we?”
Her dreamy eyes looked into his with confusion. Her soft hands were stroking his wide, hairless chest. His skin was smooth and muscular and so incredibly warm. He quivered when she worried a flat nipple with her nail.
“Baby, you didn’t answer me.” His wide palm cradled her nape. They exchanged a deep but all-too-brief kiss. Diane wanted nothing more than to slide her tongue over his lips, then quickly inside. Charles groaned, longing to intensify the kiss, but not daring to. He held her close but just beyond the heat of his mouth while one long-fingered hand followed the natural dip of her spine to cup and squeeze her lush curves. “Is it too soon?” he queried, barely able to hold himself in check. He had no choice. She came first with him.
Diane blushed hiding her face against his throat. “I’m a little tender, but I don’t care... I want you.”
One kiss led to another and yet another, each deeper and longer than the one before it. With his eyes closed, Charles savored her sweetness as she lay on top of him, her breasts on his chest, her thighs nestled between his, his shaft throbbing against her stomach.
He fingered her soft heat.
“Chuck...”
“Open for me...”
She shuddered in response, spreading her thighs, opening herself to him, needing to have him fill the void.
The bedside telephone rang. Diane was oblivious to all but the intoxicating heat of his arousal stroking her intimately.
By the fifth ring, Charles sighed wearily, “Answer the damn thing.”
“The answering machine will pick it up,” she whispered breathlessly, arching her back and rubbing her aching breasts against his chest. The blasted thing kept right on ringing. Diane suddenly remembered she hadn’t inserted a new tape.
He swore, yanking the telephone off the hook and placing it against her ear.
“Hello?” Diane managed, her voice filled with dread.
“Sweetheart, you’re back. When did you get in?”
“Greg?” she blinked incredulously, then glanced at Charles. His face was against her neck, but she could tell by the tight way he held his mouth that he was not pleased.
“Who else? I tried last night, but I got the machine. Too tired to pick up? How was the cruise?”
“Let me call you tomorrow.”
Diane’s total concentration was on her husband. She watched a muscle tighten in his jaw as if he were grinding his teeth.
“I missed you. When can I see you? Can I come by tonight?”
“No... this isn’t a good time. I...”
He took the telephone from her. “This is Charles Randol, Diane’s husband. I suggest you forget this number.” He slammed down the receiver.
“Why did you do that? What did you think? That I was about to invite him over?” Diane asked, pulling the sheet over herself.
Charles’s emotion inflamed from agitation because of the call to cold fury at the way she hid her body from him. She stared accusingly at him with lips swollen from his kisses, her cheeks flushed from his lovemaking. She was gorgeous, too damn beautiful. She attracted men without even lifting a finger.
He wasn’t the kind of man who sought a trophy on his arm. All he wanted was for Diane to love him as much as he loved her. The way he saw it, the competition should have ended the day he’d placed his ring on her finger. She had made a promise to him, and he’d be damned if he’d let her break it.
“You don’t have to do a thing, do you? Men flock to you like little lost sheep. Just who in the hell is Greg?”
“Gregory Johnson... a friend. Why are you so angry?”
“You took your own sweet time getting the man off the phone, yet you couldn’t take another second to tell him you’re married. Why?”
“That’s not something you just blurt out. Greg has been a good friend.”
“Are you telling me that you intend to keep your men – friends?”
“Why not? What difference does it make?”
"What difference does it make?" he roared, flinging the sheet away and towering above her. Jealous rage battled with sexual frustration.
“You have friends. I haven’t asked you to give them up because of me.”
“You’re a married woman! And you’d better start acting like it.”
Diane glared at him, “That was exactly what I was doing when you picked up the blasted telephone. It could have rung all night, for all I cared!” She turned her back to him.
But he was too damned angry to give half an inch. Diane had his nose so wide open... He knew he was jealous. And he couldn’t seem to help it. He’d had too much practice at it since Diane had come into his life. She had put him through enough hell before they were married for him suddenly to pretend it didn’t matter.
“It looks to me as if you have some telephone calls to make, Mrs. Randol. The sooner you get started, the better. We’re married. I won’t share!” Charles shoved his legs into the jeans he’d left on the floor before heading for the living room.
“You have no right...”
“No right!” He stormed back to the bed one hand on a lean hip. “Lady, you are my wife... my woman. I’m the one with exclusive rights!”
Charles let out a guttural sound as he stalked away without looking back at the woman who had exclusive rights to his heart. Marching to the refrigerator, he grabbed a beer and then flopped down on the sofa. Switching on the television set, Charles was determined to ignore the dictates of his body, which demanded he complete what he’d started. He was alarmed by the extent of his vulnerability to her.
He’d never been jealous with any of the women he’d been involved with in the past. He was naturally easygoing where women were concerned. But not with Diane... never with Diane.
As he sat brooding, he was haunted by the way he’d rushed her into marriage. It ate at him. Damn that phone call! It had served to remind Charles of how skillfully Diane had used other men to protect herself from him.
Diane hugged the pillow to her breasts for a long time. Eventually, she got up, found a nightgown, and slipped it on. Climbing back into bed, she switched off the lamp, making a point to keep her back to the door.
They’d been back one day and already their marriage was unraveling, she decided in misery. Eliz hated her, and now he was furious with Diane because of a stupid telephone call from a man she didn’t even care about. Why was he acting this way?
She’d made some mistakes in the past. Would those errors in judgment eventually cost her her husband’s love and his sister’s respect? Tears burned her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She had done nothing wrong. Nothing!
When the telephone rang again, Diane expected Charles to charge into the bedroom and take it out of her hand. But the only sound coming from the living room was the eleven o’clock news.
“Hello?”
“Where the hell have you been?”
Not now, she almost groaned aloud. Not with Charles in the next room. Goosebumps pimpled her bare arms. She whispered, “What do you want?” Her eyes were glued to the partly opened door.
“What do you think? Mama needs some money.” It was Lillie.
“I gave you enough to last until the end of the month.”
“Well, it didn’t. Where you been? I’ve been trying to reach you for over a week.”
“Never mind that. I can’t keep giving you money.” But Diane knew she was in no position to argue. “I won’t be able to see you until Wednesday. You’ll just have to wait.”
The profanity that poured from the phone didn’t affect Diane. She was used to verbal abuse. What she wasn’t used to was having an angry husband a few feet away, possibly listening to every word.
“I’m not a kid anymore. We both know you depend on me. I don’t have to give you a cent,” Diane hissed in a whisper.
“Yeah? Are you threatening me? You think I won’t show up at that school of yours. Let them fancy friends of yours see where you really come from.” Lillie laughed, nearly choking on her own wit.
“The choice is yours,” Diane whispered, her anxiety increasing with each heartbeat. “But you’ll lose. Without a job, I can’t help you or myself. I’ll meet you on Wednesday at the usual place at four.” Diane didn’t wait for her mother’s reply; she hung up.
Curled into a ball, this time she didn’t even try to stop the tears as they ran down her cheeks, soaking her pillow. Lillie was why she hadn’t wanted Charles to come with her to the condo. If they were to have a future, she had to make sure he never found out about Lillie.
She was asleep when her husband slid into bed beside her. Even though he ached to hold her, he held on to his jealousy and resentment instead.