Luxury Model Wife (16 page)

He lifted her chin with his gloved hand and met her eyes. “I’m not going to die, Victoria. Or hurt you. Or leave.” All at once he understood that only time and constancy would win her. He lowered his fist and touched his forehead to hers. “I’m here, and that’s how it’s going to stay, unless you say otherwise.”

She stood stock still against him until her breathing slowed. He dared not move. In their solitude he could almost hear her mind sorting through the possibilities for their future. “We can’t control every promise, Steve,” she murmured. “I know that. And…everyone dies sooner or later.”

He lowered his mouth to her temple and pressed a kiss there. He had his own lines in the sand to draw. “I want to know who hurt you. What’s keeping us apart?”

He needed to know who and what he was up against.

The taut muscles of her body shifted beneath him and she seemed to deflate with a long sigh of resignation. Victoria reached for his wrists to untie the boxing gloves. After pulling them off, she tossed them into the storage basket, and then massaged the joints and muscles in his hands.

“Tell me who you wanted to kill.” He refused to let the subject drop. “There are too many ghosts standing between us, Victoria. I want them to stop interfering.”

She nodded as if she understood and then linked her fingers with his, leading him back into the sitting room. They returned to their chairs. “It’s only nine forty. I guess we have plenty of time to talk,” she said.

Steve leaned toward her. “I want to hear it all.”

Victoria sat forward in her floral armchair and perched her elbows on her thighs. Her expression turned stricken. “I’m damaged, Steve. Broken. It’s senseless to want me.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“I haven’t had a single equal relationship.”

“Then I’ll be your first.”

Her eyes were filled with pain when they met his. “How can you be so sure I’ll give you what you need? I’m good at stroking a man’s ego and playing the trophy. That’s the sum total of my romantic experience. Beyond that, I don’t know.”

“We both know there are no guarantees. But my instincts are better than they were a few years ago. I’ve learned to see beyond the surface. You’re not the only one who’s faced their demons and survived.”

She seemed unconvinced, so he lightened his tone and tried again. “Anything broken that comes into Carlson’s gets fixed.”

She smiled at him then, and the smile reached all the way to her eyes. “I like that.”

“It’s true.”

Victoria sat back in her chair and considered for what seemed a long time. “You might be right.”

“I’ve already bet my life on it.”

Victoria lifted her unfinished martini from a side table. “Okay, I’ll tell you about the ghosts.”

Steve sat forward in his chair to listen.

She spoke in low, halting tones about the abusive father who had terrorized her as a child, and the battered, alcoholic mother who had failed to protect her. The descriptions of overcrowded shelters, poverty, and despair made him feel hollowed out and helpless.

He fought back tears of outrage and the overwhelming desire to commit murder. He wanted to pound his fists through the freshly painted walls as the painful details of Victoria’s childhood emerged. His chest tightened and his throat closed against the bile that threatened to unravel his composure. He swallowed hard against it, took a deep breath, and reached for his drink on the table beside the leather chair.

When Victoria finished her story the room crackled with emotions that snapped between them like electricity. She looked at him expectantly, gauging his reaction to see whether he would run from her or stay. Her eyes widened when Steve stood and set down his near-empty glass.

Steve had no intention of leaving. Instead, he willed his legs to carry him forward. “I brought you something from Boston.”

He offered the tiny package he pulled from his back pocket. “After what you just told me, I see you deserve much more than this.” No wonder James had sheltered and pampered her. He was beginning to see James’s relationship with Victoria more clearly. The power of the Van Orr name must have wrapped around her like protective armor.

Victoria’s eyes shone with pleasure when she opened the box. She smiled as she laid the garnet and marquisette drop earrings across one palm. “They’re beautiful,” she said, her eyes sparkling brighter than the gems. She removed the posts she wore, replaced them with the antiques, and then looked up. She combed her dark hair back with her fingers so he could see.

“
You
make them beautiful,” he said, as he lifted her to her feet and gathered her into his arms. “I bet the Flapper who owned them had nothing on you. Beverly says they give off lots of positive energy.”

She leaned into a kiss and then murmured, “Gifts aren’t necessary, you know.”

“I told you from the beginning I wouldn’t stake claims on you.” He brushed a wave of her hair with the back of his hand. “But I can’t pretend indifference. Take all the time you need. I want you to come to me open and ready to start again. That is, if you decide you want me.”

Victoria wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him with tenderness so deep it brought a lump to his throat. “Thank you.” If she was thanking him for the earrings or what he’d said, Steve wasn’t sure. Maybe both.

“Ready to go?” she asked, stepping back. “My western boots and I are ready.”

*****

When Steve opened the door to the bar for Victoria, country music greeted them and pulled them inside. Autographed publicity photos of country music stars filled each wall of the dimly lit entryway. Beyond, the scents of salted popcorn, fresh beer, and roasted peanuts filled the air like a carnival.

On the stage to their left, a guitarist dueled the fiddler, and the drummer picked up the pace while rows of men and women line danced on a sawdust-covered floor. A long pinewood bar stretched across the opposite side of the room. Four bartenders moved with the speed and efficiency of an assembly line, mixing drinks and pulling beers. Costumed waitresses in short, cowgirl-style skirts and western boots edged around the center tables balancing trays filled with tumblers, shot glasses, and beer bottles.

“I have no idea how to do that,” Victoria shouted over the music. She pointed to the line dancers. “Though it looks like fun.”

Steve grinned. “I thought you’d like it.”

They made their way to a table near the back of the room where it would be easier to talk. Steve moved his chair so it nearly touched Victoria’s.

A young waitress in a red-and-white-checked gingham dress stopped at their table. “What can I get you folks?” She set down a basket of unshelled peanuts, took their order, and disappeared into the crowd.

“Should’ve worn my Stetson,” Steve said, pointing out the dancers in cowboy hats.

Victoria laughed like he’d told a joke.

“Oh, funny, is it?” He laughed with her. “I don’t own a hat. My boots are more than enough cowboy gear for eastern Pennsylvania.”

Victoria smiled. “What if we lived in Pittsburgh? Would that far enough west for those crazy boots?”

Steve chuckled and took her by the hand. “I doubt it. C’mon, let’s two-step.”

He led her to the edge of the dance floor to watch the other dancers. He raised his voice so that she could hear. “This is like slow dancing the old-fashioned way, except we’ll pick up the pace a notch. We’ll do two quick steps and then slide. Couples mostly move in a circle around the floor, but we can go anyplace you like.”

He smiled and put his arms around her. “Ready?”

Victoria pursed her lips and nodded. She lifted her arms in a dance pose. “Ready to rock n’ roll.”

“Wrong category, right attitude.” Steve spun her around, dipped her backward, and chuckled as she hitched her breath.

She elbowed him in the ribs when he righted her. “Hey. That wasn’t fair.”

“Just keeping you on your toes, ma’am.”

“See that you keep me on my feet, instead.”

“Don’t worry, I will, pretty lady,” he replied with an exaggerated drawl.

“You’re really into this country
thang
tonight, aren’t you?”

“Yup,” he said, and leaned down to kiss her hard and fast.

The music carried him away to a place where there were no bad memories and no problems to solve. Steve held Victoria close while they danced, feeling his muscles relax as Victoria’s body melded into his.

When she laid her head against his chest, his pride swelled, knowing he was with the most beautiful woman in the room. He ached for her and pulled her closer before kissing the crown of her hair. Other dancers faded from view as he closed his eyes and got lost in the feel of her body against his.

He had never felt this way about a woman. Victoria Van Orr had brought his life into focus, as if every step and misstep he’d taken had led to meeting her. For once, his head was in line with his heart and he wasn’t thinking only with his—oh shit, he was rock hard. Victoria excited him, but beyond that, he felt a deep connection to the bruised but resilient woman in his arms.

She made a man feel like he could conquer the world and then lay it at her feet.

“That was nice,” she said, from the circle of his arms when the music ended. The band had stopped playing, but his return to their time and space was like an upward swim from the depths of the sea.

They stepped apart and he led her back to their table to find that their drinks had gotten warm. Steve signaled the waitress to bring another round. Someone put money in the jukebox, and a country legend sang, while Steve put his arm around the back of Victoria’s chair to listen. There was no need for talk—the mood, the company, and the melody were enough.

He couldn’t remember when he’d felt this relaxed. The music and Victoria’s company had taken the bite from the story she told him about her past. All he wanted to do now was look to the future, and he hoped that included Victoria.

He turned toward her, deciding whether or not to say as much, when he found her staring across the room. A frown creased her brow. He followed her line of vision to the bar and saw a giant-sized man in a rumpled blue suit staring back at her. When the man grinned and raised his glass in a toast, Victoria’s expression hardened.

“Know him?” Steve’s eyes narrowed with immediate dislike.

“I don’t understand what he’s doing here,” Victoria replied, shifting her attention back to Steve. “He came into the shop the other day asking for directions out of town. He wore the same blue suit and had a terrible head cold. I was afraid I’d catch the virus and be too sick to see you tonight.” She closed her mouth and glanced away as if she’d said too much.

Steve took her hand. “That would have been bad for us, but worse for him. I’d have hunted him down like a dog for ruining our date.”

Victoria squeezed his fingers and offered a wan smile. “I saw him later when I went for takeout. He made obscene gestures at me with his beer bottle. It was bizarre. A few minutes later he met someone.”

Steve sat up in his chair. “Want me to straighten him out?”

Victoria placed her other hand on his arm. “No. Let’s just ignore him. I’m having too much fun to let him ruin our night.”

Steve relented, but the pulse in his jaw throbbed. “Okay, but if he bothers you again, he’ll have to deal with me.”

“Be careful. His head cold is lethal.”

“So are my fists.”

“Oh, tough guy,” Victoria teased, grazing his knuckles with her fingertips. Her light touch nearly crashed his nervous system. “I thought you said you didn’t know how to box.” Her hand stilled over his, enabling him to focus on the conversation instead of wanting to kiss her senseless.

“I don’t box. I only know how to street fight. It’s a skill I learned in high school. Fighting was defensive at first, offensive when the situation warranted.” He’d had to fight for the right to hang out with the kids in Jimmy Van Orr’s circle to stay on top of the pecking order. It was the only way he’d known to earn their respect.

Victoria shook her head and sucked her teeth. “You men are all the same.”

“Not the same, sugar.” He resumed his imitation drawl. “Guaranteed, you won’t find another like me anywhere in the east.”

“Somehow I think that’s true.”

He wasn’t sure if that was a compliment, but decided to take it as one. “If you’re uncomfortable, we can go.”

“I wouldn’t mind getting something to eat.”

“Sounds good. I know just the place.” They finished their drinks and got up to leave.

“I need to visit the ladies’ room first. I’ll meet you at the front door.”

Steve kissed her and let his mouth linger against hers before he replied, “I’ll be waiting.”

Chapter Ten

When Victoria left the restroom, the man in the blue suit blocked her path. “I have a message for you,” he said, so close she could smell sour liquor fouling his breath and radiating off his skin.

Victoria’s turned away from the stink, her stomach lurching with revulsion. She remembered the smell of sweaty, alcoholic flesh too well from her childhood.

“My client wants what’s rightfully his. I’ll inform you of the terms and you’d be smart to settle up. Do the right thing.”

“What are you talking about?” Victoria took a step back. “Did Carlos send you?” She tried to move around him, but couldn’t get past his broad stomach and wide shoulders. “Get out of my way.” Her heart pounded with fear and fury.

“You threw me out of your store,” he hissed between bared teeth. “I wasn’t there for directions, which you already figured out; I just wanted to get acquainted.” He shoved a thick finger at her face. “You won’t be talking to me like that again.” His eyes turned to cold black stones. “You think you can talk down to me because you got money? I know all about you. You were nothing but a rich man’s whore.” He grabbed her upper arm and squeezed.

Victoria stomped hard on his instep with one cutting edge of her new boots. He cried out in a snarl of rage and pain.

There was a sudden crackle in the air as the stranger’s body lifted off the ground, hit the wall behind him and toppled into the ladies’ room door with a thundering crash. Women shrieked from inside.