Masquerade (21 page)

Chapter 24

Clarissa decided on a late-night swim. Swimming was healthy, free, and best done under the cover of darkness anyway. And it would give her time to think things over.
If she racked her brain long enough, she could find some way out of this mess with Sylvia.

At eight o’
clock she dropped Elaina off at Meredith’s room and then went back to her own room to change.

Clarissa was standing in the bedroom, her suit only halfway on, when she heard a knock at the door. She jumped, feeling awkward, and tried to shake the fear that whoever it was might have x-ray vision. “Who is it?”

“It’s me, Slade.”

Slipping the last strap over her shoulder
, she called, “Just a minute.” Then she walked into the front room, grabbing her bathrobe as she went. She put it on, haphazardly tying the sash as she opened the door. “Come in.”

Slade
’s gaze ran over her, then he walked past her shaking his head. “This is the sort of thing I came to talk to you about.”

“What?”

He held out one hand to her in an accusatory manner. “This.”

“What?” she said again.

“Haven’t you listened to anything I’ve told you over the last few days? You just invited a man into your hotel room, and you’re only wearing a robe.”

Her mouth fell open momentarily. “But it was only you.”

“Thanks. You don’t know what these little commentaries of yours do for my ego.”

She tilted her chin down in disbelief. “It’s not as though you haven’t seen me in this robe before. I wore it half of Friday afternoon
. Nobody seemed to think it was particularly seductive then.”

Slade’s
eyes took her in, from the polish on her toenails to her slightly mussed hair. “The difference is that when a man sees a woman in a robe sitting by a swimming pool, he thinks she’s covering up. When a man walks into a woman’s hotel room and she’s wearing a robe, he thinks about what she’s wearing underneath, which is probably some skimpy little negligee thing. It’s almost an invitation.”

“Wrong again. I’m wearing exactly what I wore at the beach.” She undid the tie and held open the sides of her
robe. “See, no negligee. I’m on my way swim—”

Before she even finished her sentence he was standing in front of her. “Would you stop that!” He took hold of the sides of her robe and pulled them together. “I can’t believe you just did that. You really don’t listen to anything I say, do you?”

“But it’s only my swimming suit.”

“
Exactly. You don’t flash a man your swimming suit while you’re alone in a hotel room.” He pulled the robe even tighter closed until nothing below the top of her neck showed. “You need to button this thing up.”

“It doesn’t have buttons.”

“Then use safety pins.”

She laughed. She hadn’t meant to,
but couldn’t stop herself.

He still held the front of her robe closed. “You can
think this is all very funny now, but I’m warning you, you can’t be so . . . If I were a different sort of man . . .” He suddenly let go of her robe. “Just trust me. You need to be more careful.”

She nodded, and although she tried to look serious, she knew she didn’t reach the desired effect. “May I go swimming now?”

“No. Not by yourself.” And then after giving her another harsh stare, “And not in that suit.”

“What’s wrong with my swimming suit?”

“You obviously haven’t noticed the attention it’s gotten you.”

“The only attention I got was when I jumped into the pool wearing my robe to save your daughter, who could already swim.” She walked to where her sandals lay on the floor and slipped them on.

His gaze followed her. “I came over to suggest we stay in and watch something on TV.”

“Sorry, I want to go swimming.”

“Cards? Monopoly?”

She took her key card from the coffee table and slipped it into her bag. “I’m going now.”

“All right, all right, you can go swimming.” He walked to the door and put his hand on the knob. “But I’m going with you. Just give me a minute to tell Meredith I need her to watch Bella.”

He
left and she finished gathering everything she needed. A few minutes later Slade knocked on her door and called, “We can go now.”

Clarissa walked out of her room and was surprised to see him still dressed in his clothes. “Aren’t you going to swim?” she asked.

“No, I’m going to sit by the pool, read, and chase off scoundrels when necessary.”

She rolled her eyes, then walked down the hallway. “Suit yourself. Literally in this case.”

He didn’t say anything else, and so neither did she until they stood in the elevator. Then she noticed the book he carried.

“You’re read
ing
A History of Greek City-States
?”

He tucked the book under his arm.
“It’s the perfect book for a trip to the pool with you. It will keep my mind where it’s supposed to be, and it’s big enough to make a useful weapon in case I have to throw something at Landon.”

“
It will keep your mind where it’s supposed to be?” she repeated.

His gaze
slowly took her in. “Bathsheba probably didn’t have such nice legs.”

Clarissa looked down at her legs, then back at him skeptically. “Oh, right, and I thought
Landon was one for handing out lines. If you’re going to use flattery, you could at least pick a believable feature.”

“Mrs. Hancock, not only is your husband a fool, apparently he’s also very negligent in the compliments department. If you were my wife, there would be no doubt in your mind as to the appeal of your legs.” He looked quickly away from her again. “But you’re not my wife, so I’ll be reading while you swim.”

She blushed and once again had the urge to blurt out that she wasn’t married. She couldn’t do it. At this moment it would be as good as blatantly telling him she wanted a relationship with him. That was such a big step, such a huge risk to take, all because he’d made an offhand comment about her legs.

He probabl
y thought Natalie had nice legs too. But when Natalie had told Slade she was interested in him, he’d immediately done everything possible to avoid even being in her proximity.

What would he do if he
thought his nanny was after him too?

Clarissa shifted her weight around uncomfortably in the elevator and clutched her beach bag closer to her. How much rejection did she need in life? Wasn’t Alex enough? Did she need to go out and look for extra opportunities for men to shred her ego?

Slade was one of those men who spoke his mind. Even Meredith said so. It didn’t mean he was flirting, let alone actually interested in her.

They got off the elevator and walked silently to the pool. No one else was there, and Slade pulled a deck chair over next to one of the decorative light
posts that lighted the area. It must not have thrown off enough light, however, because he held the book up close to his face.

Clarissa took off her robe, threw it onto a chair, then walked to the deep end of the pool. Without hesitating, she dove in. The water was colder than she
had expected. It felt good as it slid over her skin. It felt cleansing, as if she could wash away all her thoughts. She swam a dozen laps, and when she tired of that, she floated on her back, gazing up at the stars.

Nothing occurred to her about her predicament with Sylvia. In fact, it was hard to think of Sylvia at all when she knew Slade sat
nearby watching her. At least he said he’d be watching her. She never actually saw him look at anything except his book. And she checked often enough.

She peered over at him again. His elbows rested on his knees, and his dark eyes were completely engrossed in
his book.

Handsome and studious.

Perhaps her husband’s freak manhole accident could happen soon.

She
swam over to where Slade sat and hung onto the side of the pool. “So are you a history buff, or do you have some other reason for reading about Greek city-states?”

“I’
ve got a part as a Spartan warrior,” he said without looking at her. “I like to know about my characters’ cultures. Right now I’m reading about the Peloponnesian War.”

“Oh,” she said, “
That stuff is all Greek to me.”

He
smiled but kept his attention on the book. “I guess that’s the point.”

The moonlight
made lazy ripples across the water. Nearby plumeria trees drenched the night with their scent making everything feel exotic and sensual. Clarissa caressed the water with her hand, letting it run through her fingers. “Why is it that Hollywood loves Sparta so much? It’s like one big laconophilia club.”

Slade looked at her with surprise
. “Laconophilia? I’d never even heard that word until I started this book, and you use it casual conversation?”

“My high school’
s mascot was a Spartan. The name of our yearbook was Laconophilia—the love of Spartan things.”

Slade
absently tapped his fingers on the cover. “I don’t know what impresses me more: that you know the term laconophilia or that you remember the name of your high school yearbook.”

“They had slaves, you know, and didn’t mind killing them
.” She made lazy kicks in the water. “It’s stupid that society idolizes them. Would anybody name their high school mascot: the brutal-slave-holding-plantation owners?”

Slade
went back to reading his book. “According to this, women got better treatment in Sparta than they did in most places in Greece.

“What—other places didn’t capture their brides or make them shave their heads when they got married?”

“You know those details too?” Slade looked up at her again, considering her more closely. “Somehow I doubt those facts were part of your high school yearbook. How did you know that?”

She shrugged.
“You’re not the only one who reads.”

His gaze went over her
again, scrutinizing her. “You were one of those girls that got straight A’s in school, weren’t you?”

She ran her fingers through a patch of light on the water. “Learning is
fun.”

He
kept staring at her with a look of curiosity, like she was a species of mermaid who had suddenly appeared in the water.

“What?” she asked.

“You’re really different from Evelyn.”

“Right. I’m not famous, rich, or on daytime TV.”

“No, I mean, she never would have said that learning was fun.” Slade shook his head as though remembering. “I couldn’t even convince her that being married was fun. And mothering? She still doesn’t think that’s fun.”

“Why did you marry her?”
As soon as Clarissa asked the question, she wished she could take it back. She shouldn’t pry. Enough of his personal life had already been laid out for the public.

Slade didn’t seem to mind
, though. He leaned back in his chair. “I was stupid. I was as wowed by her fame as anybody else. I thought marrying Evelyn meant I’d have someone who would understand me—you know, understand my schedule and the hassles involved with being a celebrity. And she did understand those. She just didn’t understand things like commitment or working on a relationship.”

“I’m sorry,” Clarissa said.

“Next time,” he said. “I’ll look for someone who thinks the role of spouse is more important than the role of star.”

But
did he still want a star? She couldn’t ask.

Slade
lifted his book again, done with the subject. “Live and learn. I won’t make those same mistakes again. Although,” he added with a grumble, “if I had it over to do again, I’d still send Brad Nash into that salad bar.”

Clarissa
stared at the pool decking and thought about her own divorce. Would Slade think she was the type who didn’t understand commitment and didn’t want work on her marriage because she had been the one to leave? If Alex had shown up with some bimbo at a salad bar, at least she would have had an easy and understandable excuse for her divorce. But how could she explain to Slade what her marriage to Alex had been like?

Alex had lived a charmed life, a perfect life. All through school he’d been popular, sought after, and revered. He’d played football in college and had been recognized around campus. When he and Clarissa had married during
his last year of college, things were good for a while. Things changed when he took his first job.

Alex suddenly became just a junior accountant in a big firm that didn’t care how popular he’d been in high school or whether he could catch a football. He wasn’t surrounded by adoring women. He
only had Clarissa, and she’d grown less glamorous every day with a new pregnancy.

Clarissa could see the transformation in him happen, could almost see his dissatisfaction becoming tangible. He complained about everything
she did. She was supposed to be always beautiful, organized, and cheerful. The house was supposed to be spotlessly clean, dinner always ready, and Elaina completely under control.