Affair of the Heart (14 page)

“No. Yes.” She looked at him somberly. “Did you ever read
The Great Gatsby?”
she asked.

“Yeah, in high school. His name was Jay too. I remember I took a lot of abuse over it.”

“What did you think of him?”

He sat up and looked at her out of suddenly chilly eyes. “What brought this on?”

“I don’t know. What did you think of him?” she repeated.

“I thought he was a goddam fool, if you must know. That slut wasn’t worth two minutes of his time.”

“I know.” She rested her forehead on her updrawn knees. “That was the point of the book, wasn’t it? I mean ...”

“She had a voice like yours,” he broke in abruptly.

“Daisy?” She named the Eastern girl who had been the object of Gatsby’s obsession for the whole of the novel.

“Yeah. Daisy. ‘Her voice was full of money.’ Isn’t that how he described it?”

She raised her head and looked at him, her long hair gleaming in the sunshine, her eyes very green in her tanned face. “Do you think I’m like Daisy?” she asked quietly.

“Caroline ...” He was very pale under his tan.

She kept looking at him, very steadily. “Do you?” she asked again.

“No.” His voice sounded hoarse. “No, God help me, I don’t.” He moved so he was kneeling in front of her. “Cara,” he said. “God, Cara ...” His hands slid into her hair, and she turned her face up for his kiss.

They were both wearing swim suits which were easily shed. Caroline forgot her depression, forgot that for him this was just a transient affair. She loved him so much. His skin tasted slightly salty with sweat. “Jay,” she breathed, “darling. I’ll do anything you want. Just tell me. Anything.”

“Cara.” She shuddered and moved for him, listening to the love words he called her, wanting him desperately. Finally he raised her hips and answered to her longing, burying himself deep within her. Caroline closed her eyes, and then, as he stilled, opened them again. “This is where I want to be.” His face was very close to hers. “Morning, nighttime, all the time. This is where I want to be.”

His eyes were darker than midnight, and she stared up at him, still as he was, both of them poised on the brink of their journey into darkness, passion, and ecstasy. She knew that no other man, no matter how long she lived or how hard she searched, would ever be able to make her feel like this. Then he began to move, slowly at first, and Caroline rose on the waves of him, incapable of holding anything back, giving him her passion and her pleasure, as sweet and untamed as honey in the wild.

“God, Cara,” he groaned a good deal later. “It doesn’t seem possible, but it gets better every time.”

“I know.” Her voice was very low.

He buried his face between her breasts. “It’s got to stop sometime,” he said, “otherwise it’ll kill me.”

She laughed, cherishing the feel of his mouth against her breasts. “You’re holding up remarkably well.”

“Um.” He rolled over on his back and stretched luxuriously.

She ran a gentle finger over the line of his eyebrow, and he took her hand in one of his, drawing it across his eyes and his cheeks. “It’s never been like this for me before,” she said softly.

His blue eyes, narrowed against the sun, stared at her face. “And do you have a large number of comparisons?” he asked tautly.

“No.” Her voice was even softer. “Only two. I told you before that I only go to bed with men I’m engaged to.”

She looked down at his face and held her breath. Please let him say it, she thought tensely. Please let him say it.

He didn’t. A small smile touched his mouth and he said, “And me.”

Oh, Jay.
Her eyes closed as a strange new pain went through her. But she mustn’t let him see how she was feeling. She remembered all too well the awkwardness, the scenes, the reproaches, when she had had to tell her two previous lovers that their feelings were not reciprocated. She didn’t want to put either Jay or herself through that particular scenario. So she summoned up an answering smile, bent her head, and kissed him on the lips. “And you,” she said lightly. “And you.”

It was a long ride to the Macdonald ranch in northern Utah. Caroline rode with Joe in the station wagon; Jay drove the horse van with Mahogany, and two of the ranch hands rode with the stallion. They started early and didn’t arrive until dusk.

“Wow,” said Caroline as she took in the acres of white-fenced paddocks. “Are you sure this is Utah and not Kentucky?”

“I thought you’d be surprised,” Joe replied.

The ranch house was very large and imposing, but Caroline secretly thought that the Double Diamond ranch house was much prettier. A small, thin man came out onto the front portico to greet them.

“Welcome, welcome,” he said jovially. “Good to see you, Joe. Miss Carruthers, delighted you could join us.” He looked around. “I thought your son was coming, Joe.”

“He’ll be along shortly, Owen. He’s driving the van.”

“I see. Well, let’s get you settled then. Have you eaten?”

“Yes. We had dinner on the road.” They walked into the front hall of the house, and Joe asked, “Who else do you have running this year?”

“Taylor’s bringing a horse, and Morgan’s here, and Banks.” He looked at Joe. “Are you really running your range stallion? That colt you got from Kentucky that nobody could handle?”

He sounded faintly patronizing when he said the words “range stallion,” and Caroline began to see why he was not a favorite with the Hamiltons.

“Jay can handle him,” Joe said shortly.

“Is Jay going to ride?” Owen sounded surprised.

“Yep.”

There was a little pause, and then Caroline said diplomatically, “I’m looking forward to seeing your place, Mr. Macdonald. It looked just lovely as we drove in.”

“I’m looking forward to showing it to you, Miss Carruthers,” the man responded gallantly. “Would you like to freshen up first and then join the rest of us in the living room for a drink?”

Caroline looked as fresh and crisp as if she’d just stepped out of her own door, but she nodded gratefully and said, “Thank you.”

Owen Macdonald took them upstairs and showed Caroline into a pretty chintz-covered bedroom. “I’ve put you right next door, Joe,” he said pleasantly. “I hope you don’t mind sharing a room with Jay. I’m pretty full up this week, I’m afraid.”

Caroline’s heart sank as she closed her bedroom door. If Joe and Jay were doubling up that would effectively put an end to her stepbrother’s nocturnal visits. Caroline opened her suitcase and took out her cosmetic bag, feeling depressed.

She went across the hall to the bathroom to wash her face and brush her teeth. When she opened the door into the hall again, Jay and Owen were coming toward her. She took one look at Jay’s face and stifled a giggle. “Hi,” she said. “Mahogany all right?”

“He’s fine,” Jay said with unmistakable emphasis, and Caroline’s nostrils quivered in her exertion to keep her gravity. Jay looked at her, divined her state immediately, and grinned. “We had a good trip,” he said in a milder voice. “He behaved himself pretty well.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” she managed and escaped back to her own bedroom before she disgraced herself. Her depression had miraculously fled. Just the sight of him could fill her with happiness.

Caroline changed her slacks for a simple print cotton skirt that showed off the golden tan on her long, slender, spectacularly gorgeous legs. She waited until she heard Joe’s door open and then opened her own and joined the men in the hallway.

“Who else is here, do you know?” she murmured to Joe as they walked down the hall.

“Oh, he’s got some lord staying with him,” Joe said. “Made a big song and dance about it on the phone when I called to say we were coming.”

“Did you notice how he’s even started to acquire an English accent?” Jay asked disgustedly.

Joe’s snort was eloquent of his feelings. However, Caroline noticed that they had both suited their attire to the greater formality of the occasion. Joe was wearing twill pants and a blue shirt open at the neck, while his son was similarly attired in khaki pants and white shirt. Jay had also rolled up his sleeves, and his skin looked Indian-dark against the fine white cotton.

The three of them arrived together in the archway that led to the living room. It was a very large room with about ten people seated on a collection of sofas and easy chairs. Owen came across to them immediately. “You must let me introduce you around,” he said. “We have a visitor from overseas I’d particularly like you to meet.”

Caroline heard him through a haze of stunned incredulity. She was staring, wide-eyed with shock, at a tall, fair-haired man in a battered tweed jacket. “The Earl of Clontarf.” Owen said.

“Gerald,” croaked Caroline. “Whatever are
you
doing here?”

The tall man was standing now in front of her. “Caroline! I don’t believe my eyes!”

“Do you know each other?” asked Owen.

Caroline got a grip on herself. “Yes, we do. We met while I was on a visit to Ireland.” She held out her hand and smiled. “How nice to see you again, Gerald,” she said insincerely.

His blue eyes were grave on her face. “It’s wonderful to see
you”
he said, and it was clear he meant it. He took her hand and then kissed her on the cheek.

Caroline could feel the color flushing into her face. Involuntarily, she looked at Jay.

His face was very still; his eyes on her and Gerald were unreadable. Caroline said with a composure she was scarcely feeling, “Gerald, may I present Mr. Joseph Hamilton and his son Jay.” She looked at the rancher. “Lord Clontarf, Joe.”

Gerald smiled easily and held out his hand. “So pleased to meet you, Mr. Hamilton.” Joe shook hands, and Gerald moved along to Jay with another polite handshake.

“You’re a long way from home,” Joe commented pleasantly.

Gerald smiled. “I know. But Mr. Macdonald was kind enough to invite me for a visit, and I couldn’t resist seeing the fabled American West.”

“Lord Clontarf has a stud in Ireland,” Owen put in. “I bought a filly from him who’s a real stunner. I’ll have to show her to you tomorrow.”

“She’s one of Maire’s foals,” Gerald said quietly to Caroline.

“Then I’m sure she is a beauty.” Caroline smiled at Owen, trying to overcome the tension that was rising within her.

Owen beamed back. Caroline had risen inestimably in his opinion since she had claimed friendship with his lord. “Let me get you a drink, Miss Carruthers. What will you have?”

“A glass of wine would be lovely,” she replied.

“And you, Joe? Jay? How about you, Clontarf? Can I refresh your glass?”

The drink orders were given and Joe said, “I’ll give you a hand, Owen,” and accompanied his host to the bar. Caroline was left alone with her two lovers, past and present.

Gerald, whose manners were impeccable, addressed a remark to Jay in his very upper-class British accent. Jay, whose manners were not the equal of Clontarf s, said bluntly, “You don’t sound Irish at all.”

Gerald smiled faintly. As a member of the landowning Protestant Ascendency, his family had always identified itself with England. “I went to school in England,” he replied easily. Jay didn’t say anything in return, only looked sardonic. Caroline rushed in.

“Jay is my stepbrother, Gerald. Nancy’s son.”

Now why did I say that? she thought as Jay’s icy-blue stare fell full upon her. But I had to say
something.

“Lovely woman, your mother.” Gerald was making matters worse. “Made a tremendous hit in Ireland.”

“Yes,” said Jay. “She would.”

Really, thought Caroline in exasperation, he was behaving very badly. Even Gerald looked a little startled at his tone.

“Have you been here long?” Caroline asked her former fiancé.

“A few days.” Gerald looked at her, and Caroline had little difficulty reading his eyes. “I was going to stop over in Washington before I went home,” he said.

“Oh.” Once again Caroline glanced at Jay. His hair had fallen forward over his forehead, and his eyes were blazingly bright.

He gave her a singularly unpleasant smile and said, “Lucky Caroline.”

Caroline wanted to hit him, but she got back at him even more effectively. She smiled at Clontarf and said, “That was sweet of you, Gerald.”

“Here we are now!” It was Owen and Joe, returning with drinks. Once everyone had a glass in his hand, Owen insisted on introducing them around the room. In fifteen minutes Caroline found herself sitting on a sofa with Gerald and chatting rather disjointedly to a number of people whose names she could not remember. Jay stood in the window recess talking to an extremely attractive middle-aged woman. They seemed to have quite a lot to say to each other.

The party broke up about midnight. Caroline had had no opportunity for further speech with Jay, and he made no attempt to come over to her when she maneuvered to be alone for a brief moment by the stairs.

She got into her lonely bed feeling distinctly out of temper. Jay’s behavior had been unpardonable. He was acting like a ten-year-old, she thought crossly. If their positions had been reversed, Gerald would never have behaved like this.

She lay back against her pillows, stared at the ceiling, and compared the two men. Gerald, she thought, would have been unfailingly pleasant and courteous. He would have helped her over an awkward situation, not stood there, glaring and making it worse. One would always be able to rely on Gerald.

She closed her eyes for a minute and saw Jay’s face. It was so vividly present to her that when she opened her eyes again she almost expected him to be there. Her bad temper evaporated and she stared once more at the blank ceiling. The problem was, she thought achingly, it was Jay she understood, not Gerald.

Jay was possessive, his father had told her once. And she had seen the truth of that tonight. He hadn’t liked seeing Gerald at all. She had finished with Gerald; Jay knew Gerald was no threat to him; yet he hadn’t liked seeing him. He was possessive. He didn’t like to share.

And Caroline understood that. What kind of loving was worth anything if it was willing to share? The possessive ones were the passionate ones, the ones who could give completely, utterly, one thousand percent. Perhaps they weren’t always polite, always civilized. But they made the world around them flame with an intensity of feeling and living that the Geralds of this world would never know.