If I Can't Have You (15 page)

“Drinking’s what made you forget everything in the first place.”

“You don’t know anything about that night.”

“Do you? Do you remember what happened?”

“No. And I don’t ever want to remember. I woke up covered with blood, holding a knife. It’s highly possible I murdered a woman—someone I knew.
Someone who didn’t deserve to die. Someone whose death haunts me every second of every day. Is that something you’d want to remember?”

Tears streamed down Adriana’s cheeks. She hadn’t wanted to hear those words. She didn’t want to believe that he’d really been with Carole that night. She wanted to believe he was innocent. “Tell me you didn’t do it. Please.”

“Haven’t you heard a word I’ve said? I don’t remember that night. I don’t remember any
thing at all.” He stared at her,
ignoring her tears, her fright.

“Where’s the whiskey?”

He was acting just as her father had each time she’d hidden his gin. She didn’t want to go through that again. She couldn’t.

With the back of her hand she wiped away the tears, and told him the same thing she’d told her father time and time again. “Getting drunk won’t help.”

“Don’t preach.”

“Please.”

“Don’t beg, either.”

She glared at him, not caring that tears continued to stream down her face. Her father had yelled. Her father had ignored her. Why should Trevor Montgomery be any different?

She ran to her bedroom and pulled three bottles from the bottom of her lingerie drawer, then turned around and faced the crazy man she knew was standing in her doorway.

“Drink it. Drink all of it,” she shouted. “Fall down flat on your face if that’s what you want. Then get out of my house and don’t come back.”

Trevor stared at her as if giving her ultimatum some thought, then he crossed the room, grabbed one of the bottles and twisted off the cap. He swigged a long gulp, then another.

He braced a hand on the dresser, not once turning
around to look at her. “Do you really want me to leave?” he asked.

She didn’t need to be involved with another alcoholic. Once in a lifetime was more than enough.

“I don’t have time for a drunk.”

Slowly he turned, his reddened eyes, the slight waver of his voice, the slump of his shoulders defining an overwhelming sadness. “You’re sure?”

“Very sure.”

“Then I’ll get out of here in the morning. As soon as it’s light.”

“Just get out of my room now. Please.”

He tilted the bottle and took another sip, but his gaze never left Adriana’s tear-streaked cheeks.

“I’m sorry things had to turn out this way,” he said

“But not sorry enough to do anything about it.”

She’d hoped he’d be different, nothing at all like her father. She’d wanted to believe in Trevor. So many things were good and right about him, but too many other things were wrong.

Having him around brought back the unhappy memories of a father who hadn’t cared, who believed most everything good in life was a sin, who thought liquor was more important than his only child.

“I never should have wished for your return,” she said sadly.

“No, I suppose you shouldn’t have.”

Slowly he stepped into the hall. When she heard his footsteps at the opposite end, she closed and locked her bedroom door, afraid that he might return.

And then, again, she was afraid he wouldn’t.

She didn’t know how long she stood there crying. She’d thought she could help, but she knew the only one who could help Trevor Montgomery was himself.

She heard the front door open and close. She heard the garage door open.

Oh, God! Was he going to get in the car? She didn’t want to help any longer, but she couldn’t allow him to drive while he was drinking.

She rushed out of the house, stopping at the edge of the hedges when she saw him standing beside the Duesenberg, smoothing his fingers over the green
and
yellow paint. The opened bottle of whiskey was gripped in his tightened fist, as if he were holding on to a lifeline.

Turning slowly, he leaned against the automobile and looked toward the back of the house, toward Adriana’s bedroom window.

She watched him raise the bottle to his lips then hesitate, as if giving serious thought to his actions. But the thinking didn’t last long. He must have decided drinking was the most important thing at the moment. He tilted it again to his mouth.

Suddenly, he hurled the bottle across the drive. It crashed on the patio, and liquor and glass sprayed everywhere.

A dog barked somewhere down the street. Another began to howl.

And Trevor stood silent and still, staring off into the dark.

A cool wind breezed across the yard, shaking the palms, the rosebushes. Adriana rubbed her arms for warmth. She should go inside, leave him alone and let him work out his problems. But she couldn’t leave, she couldn’t stop watching. She was afraid he’d disappear if she let him out of her sight.

Where could he go, though? He had no other home, no one to take him in. Besides, he wasn’t dressed for a drive around town or anywhere else.

She laughed to herself, wondering again why she even cared.

Finally he moved, climbing into the front seat of
the Duesenberg. He leaned back against the soft green leather, but he didn’t start the car. More than likely he didn’t have the keys.

She walked quietly to the patio, her bare feet cold on the terra-cotta tiles. She pulled a multicolored serape from one of the chairs, wrapped it around her shoulders, and sat down. Surely he wouldn’t stay out all night. Surely he’d get tired and go inside to bed.

She yawned, thinking how crazy it was for her to be outside watching him, worrying about him. She should be inside, in her bed, where it was warm and comfortable.

Several hours must have gone by before the sun peeked over the hills to the east. Adriana’s joints ached from the cool, damp air. She stretched and rubbed her eyes, looking across the lawn to the garage.

Trevor was still behind the wheel, his head still resting against the soft green leather.

Gathering the serape about her, she walked to the side of the car and looked down at the sleeping man. His cheeks and chin were rough with whiskers, the skin below his eyes was puffy and dark. He hadn’t drunk that much, and for just a moment Adriana wondered if he might have been crying?

It didn’t seem possible. He was Trevor Montgomery.
The
Trevor Montgomery, a man who knew no fear, who laughed in the face of danger. Could a man like that possibly cry?

Lightly, she touched his shoulder. “Wake up, Trevor. Come inside and have some coffee.”

His eyelids twitched, opening slowly. A halfhearted smile touched his lips. “Do you plan to sober me up completely before you kick me out on the street?” he asked, the smile turning to a grin.

“Against my better judgment, I’m not kicking you out.”

“You’re sure you don’t want to give it a little more thought?”

Adriana shook her head. She’d thought about it before she fell asleep. She’d thought about letting him stay the moment he’d thrown the bottle. He was a troubled man with a troubled past, and he was probably going to bring even more trouble into her life. But tossing the bottle was proof that he wanted to try and change. If he could try, she figured she could try to help him.

She opened the car door and he stepped out. They were the perfect fodder for gossip, he in his underwear, she in a short, flimsy silk gown.
This is how trouble begins,
she thought, and she wasn’t just thinking about gossip, she was thinking about her feelings, about how good he looked fully dressed or nearly naked. And she thought about the way her heart was beating wildly within her chest.

Trevor Montgomery was definitely trouble, so she decided to do what she’d always done where men were involved. She’d back away.

“Thank you for not making me leave,” he said, and doing what seemed so much a natural part of him, he reached out to touch her cheek.

Adriana avoided his touch, walking briskly toward the house. She would help
,
but she wouldn’t get too close. That was the only way this would work. She’d help him establish a new life, a new identity. Once he was able to take care of himself, she’d back even farther away—if she could.

When they reached the house, she went straight to the shower and turned the water to hot, letting it pulsate over her body while she cursed herself for making another mistake. Why was she letting her emotions get involved. She was a businesswoman. She was smart. She was logical. But she hadn’t used her brain or her logic where Trevor Montgomery
was concerned. She’d just let him enter her house and disrupt her life.

And she had more emotions coursing through her right now than she’d ever had.

She felt happy.

Of course, she’d felt happy each time her father sobered up, but those times were few, the moments short. Then he’d drink again. Then he’d get mean.

She hadn’t been able to change her father’s ways. Could she change Trevor’s?

She half expected Trevor to be leaning against her bedroom wall or stretched out on her bed when she came out of the bathroom. Instead, she smelled strong coffee emanating from the kitchen, a hint of cigarette smoke, and she heard his whistling.

The sound was such a treat in her usually quiet house.

She dressed in black-linen trousers with a high waistband that came nearly to her breasts. She wore a billowing white silk blouse, and avoided putting on shoes. They were definitely the bane of a woman’s existence.

Slipping into the kitchen without him seeing her, she curled up in a chair and watched him chopping onions and bell pepper. He was dressed in the white shirt again and the black Levi’s. She really should consider buying him a few more changes of clothes, although he looked rather handsome dressed in the jeans.

His feet were bare and he tapped his toes as he whistled. He reached for the cigarette resting on the edge of the sink and sucked the smoke and nicotine into his lungs. It looked so sexy, so glamorous in the movies, and it seemed so much a part of him that she didn’t have the heart right now to ask him to stop.

He blew out a puff of smoke and slowly cocked his head to peer at her over his shoulder. “Are you
going to stare at me all morning, or try some of my coffee?”

“You knew I was here?”

“I have very good hearing. I could almost hear you breathing when you watched me from the patio during the night”

“You knew?”

He stubbed the cigarette out in one of the ashtrays that had once belonged to him, then took a long drink of coffee. “I’d hoped you’d come. I wouldn’t have bet on it, though.”

Adriana crossed the room and poured the thick, strong brew into a cup. It didn’t look the least bit appetizing, but Trevor was drinking it down as if it was water.

“Need any help?” she asked, looking at half a dozen eggs resting on the counter along with a slab of cheddar cheese.

“I’ve got it well under control, but thanks. Thanks for shopping last night, too. You could have waited until today.”

“You were hungry, and I needed some time away.”

Trevor smiled and turned back to the counter.

“Your cooking skills surprise me,” she said, curling up once again in the chair.

“I wasn’t always rich and famous. I didn’t always have a cook to prepare my meals, either.”

“What about the women in your life? Surely they would have cooked for you.”

“I rarely stayed in a woman’s bed till morning, and the women I knew were interested in things other than making my breakfast.”

“You’re awfully proud of your sexual encounters, aren’t you?”

Trevor dropped half a cube of butter into a pan and tossed the wrapper into the trash. He wiped his hands on a towel and turned around. A slow grin
crossed his face. “You seem to be an expert on my life. What do you think?”

“That you were lonely.”

He laughed and went back to work on the onion, tossing it into the sizzling butter. “I didn’t have time to be lonely. I’m surprised you’re not aware of that.”

“Well, there were rumors about a lot of women.”

“And, naturally, the gossip columns don’t lie. Let’s see, supposedly I was with a different woman every night of the week. Women came into my dressing room in the afternoons, and I indulged my carnal appetite in a very expedient manner.”

“Is it true?”

“Not the expedient part.” He winked. “I like taking my time and enjoying myself.”

“You don’t deny the rest?”

“I like women, Adriana. I’ve never denied that to anyone. I won’t deny it to you, either.”

Adriana swirled the coffee in her cup, watching it go around and around. It was a safer place to look than into Trevor’s eyes. She could easily see why so many women had fallen for him, why they’d gone to his dressing room in the afternoons, and to his bed at night.