The Long Road Home (2 page)

“Get to the point. What are you trying to tell me?” Clarisse didn’t like the anxiety in her friend’s hazel eyes.

“His girlfriend’s in the car.” When Clarisse didn’t immediately answer, Jennifer frowned. “Didn’t you hear? He’s got his girlfriend with him. He never mentioned someone else coming along—never mind a woman. You’ve got to believe me. I would never have set it up if I’d known.”

“I heard.” Clarisse shoved down her panic and gave Jennifer a wobbly smile. She was beyond shock. “I really have no option now, do I? I need to get to my sister’s wedding on the fourteenth.”

She’d been a model once. The occupation had required some form of acting. Today and for the next several days, she would have to use that ability to prove she was over him. And maybe, if she pretended long enough, she would convince herself that he didn’t have the power to hurt her.

With shaking fingers, Clarisse feathered her hair back from her face. Then she tossed the cane on Jennifer’s bed. “But I’ll be damned if he’ll see me as an invalid.”

“Are you crazy!” Jennifer’s hand came up and rested against the wall between them, barring Clarisse’s path to the door. “You can’t go out there without your cane.”

“Just watch me.” She waited, meeting Jennifer’s determined gaze.

Jennifer backed down first. She pulled away from the wall and muttered, “God, you can be so stubborn.”

“Don’t worry. I’m not that crazy. Believe it or not, I can live without the cane. It’s just that I’ve become so used to it that I’m having a hard time putting it aside.” Clarisse gave her a cocky smile, though inside, she felt far from confident. Her knee still hadn’t completely healed from this last surgery, and acting as if nothing was wrong for the next couple of days might drastically delay her recovery.

Straightening her shoulders, Clarisse inhaled deeply and opened the bedroom door. She stepped across the threshold, then stopped. John stood in the center of room. He appeared taller than she remembered, dwarfing the small living area and furniture within it.

Clearing her throat, she murmured, “Hi, John.”

He turned. Suddenly, the air grew thicker, hotter, more humid. Her gaze swept over his long legs and slim hips encased in jeans, then skimmed over his plain, white t-shirt covering his flat belly and muscled chest, to the strong tanned column of his throat. His black hair layered back from high cheekbones and a prominent, sometimes stubborn jaw. She met his guarded expression with what she hoped looked like a genuine smile.

Struggling not to limp, Clarisse fought against the pain surging through her thigh and knee as she crossed the room. She drew abreast of him and squarely met his glare. His threatening gray eyes made her think of rolling clouds and storm-tossed waves before twilight. They held her hypnotized.

Gaining control, she thrust her hand forward, and for a second, feared he would ignore her offer of a handshake. Then his fingers engulfed hers in a firm, brief grasp before he dropped his arm back to his side. The warmth of his hand lingered against her skin.

“You’re looking beautiful,” John murmured, the storm abating in his eyes. His gaze swept over her in a detached, clinical appraisal. “But then I’m not surprised. Everyone I knew wanted to photograph you. They fought to get you on their cover or ad. And I was one of them.”

Clarisse ignored the biting tone in his last words. “I’m glad to be out of such an unhealthy environment.” She shrugged, pretending it didn’t hurt just a little that today no one would pay her a dollar for a photo shoot.

She remembered how some models would do anything to enhance their looks if it meant getting on a cover. She might have done the same, if people hadn’t liked her face or figure, but that was years ago and she needed to contend with today, this second. “Please don’t blame Jennifer for manipulating you. She was trying to help me out. She knew how badly I needed a ride to California.”

“Well, you’re here and packed. It’d be petty of me to leave without you now.” His expression shifted and changed. Anger—or was it hatred—flashed in his eyes before they turned to dark, impenetrable concrete.

Spine stiffening, Clarisse realized John hadn’t forgiven her. But could she really blame him? The way she severed their relationship had been cold, almost vicious. It was a wonder he was willing to talk to her, never mind drive in the same car. He could so easily get his revenge by making this trip a hellish experience for her.

“You ready then?” he asked.

She looked at the two carrying cases by the door. Horrified at the idea of trying to tote them to the car, she turned to Jennifer, but her friend was already ahead of her. “Clarisse’s luggage is right over there.” Jennifer pointed to the front entrance. “Could you give us a hand? They’re pretty heavy.”

Swinging around, John picked the two cases up with ease and backed outside. The screen door banged shut behind him. With his departure, the tension in the room lessened.

“I think he’s carrying a couple of rain clouds around with him.” Jennifer rolled her eyes. “I hope you don’t get drenched.”

Clarisse tried to smile at her weak attempt at humor. “I think rain’s the least of my problems.”

Enfolding her in a brief hug, Jennifer murmured in her ear, “Good luck. And please try to forgive me.”

Drawing away, Clarisse arched a brow and gave her a half-smile. “I’m not going to let you off so easy.” She squeezed her best friend’s shoulders in reassurance. “Don’t worry. Everything will be fine. I’ll let you know how it went when I get to Laura’s.”

Outside, they found John rearranging the luggage in the back of the Explorer. His girlfriend didn’t bother to get out to help, which was just as well; Clarisse wasn’t in the mood to strike up a conversation with the woman.

“Vivian, this is Clarisse,” John called. “She’s the one who’ll be traveling with us.”

Leaning through the open window, Vivian returned Clarisse’s smile. A cloud of blazing red hair framed a pale, expertly made-up face. A model. How ironic.

Vivian’s blue eyes widened. “Your face!”

Frowning, Clarisse cautiously brushed her fingers against her chin and nose, thinking that somehow dirt must have found its way on her.

“I used to see it on all the mags. You went under the name of Claire.” She shook her head in amazement. “This is hilarious. I’m riding with an honest-to-goodness super model!”

The skin across Clarisse’s cheekbones and jaw tightened. “That was a long time ago.”

“Why, you disappeared off the face of the earth.” Vivian shook her head in obvious amazement. “I seem to remember—” Something in Clarisse’s expression must have stopped her from elaborating. “I’m sorry, it’s just that I always wanted to make it as a model. I did have a taste of it in high school. I managed to do a couple of jobs locally, but nothing came of it. I guess I just never had the look.”

The look.
That was right. Clarisse’d had that look. She and her bank account were thankful for it; without it she wouldn’t be financially secure today. Hoarding every cent during her short career, plain luck, and some smart business decisions had given Clarisse the mobility and freedom of never having to work again.

“So, is that it?” John asked, both hands on the hatch of the Explorer.

“Yes.” Clarisse winced when he slammed the door.

“Then let’s get going.” He turned his back, moving around to the driver’s side of the vehicle, his stride long and powerful.

Heaving herself up onto the back seat behind Vivian, Clarisse bit her lip, cutting off her cry of pain. She struggled into a sitting position, trying to look as graceful as possible. Beads of perspiration dotted her brow and clung to her temples. She closed the door, then leaned against the leather backrest. Fighting against the exhaustion pressing down on her limbs, she slid along the back and lifted her right leg across the seat. Finally in a comfortable position, she sighed, looked up and met Jennifer’s gaze.

“Don’t forget to give me a call.” Jennifer warned, concern etched in her face. She pointed back to the house. “Do you need any help?”

Vehemently, Clarisse shook her head, knowing Jennifer was referring to her cane. It was going to stay on that bed until she was ready for it.

When her best friend frowned as if in disagreement, Clarisse responded with a mouthed, “Don’t worry.”

John stomped on the gas pedal and the Explorer jerked backward. He pulled out of the driveway and turned west. She looked out the rear window until Jennifer’s diminishing form disappeared from view.

CHAPTER TWO

“John tells me you’re also going to Laura and Darren’s wedding?” Vivian asked.

“Yes,” Clarisse retorted more abruptly than she intended. She closed her eyes, attempting to ignore the dull throbbing in her leg. Then her eyes snapped open. Something wasn’t quite right with Vivian’s question. “Also? I didn’t know you knew Laura.”

Vivian gave a deep, throaty chuckle. “I don’t. John’s the one that got the invite. Isn’t that right?”

At his affirmative murmur, Clarisse sank lower in her seat. “Funny. Laura never mentioned you were coming.”

“She probably didn’t think it important, or she might have just forgotten,” John said. “She sounded pretty distracted the last time I talked to her on the phone. She wanted me to photograph the wedding. She wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

And here she thought she’d be able to dump John in San Diego. Now it looked like she would have to endure his company throughout Laura’s wedding and reception. What fun. Thank goodness she had a ride back with her parents, because just the idea of returning with John had her cringing in horror.

Vivian’s long, red, perfectly manicured nails appeared through the gap of the Explorer’s bucket seats. They brushed slowly across John’s forearm lying on the armrest, then caressed the back of his hand in a random pattern. It was a touch between lovers. Uncomfortable at the intimate display, Clarisse looked away and caught him watching her in the rearview mirror. She felt herself flush.

“I hear there will be over three hundred people at the wedding,” he drawled, his brow arching in inquiry, humor lacing his words.

Clarisse stiffened and lifted her chin. So he thought her reaction amusing, did he? “That’s right. Laura and Darren want it to be something special. Darren’s and our parents convinced them to hold off from marrying until they graduated from UCLA, so they’ve waited over four years for this day.” Clarisse looked down at her hands clasped in her lap. “Laura deserves a grand affair.”

And she deserved a good slap across her backside, Clarisse mused. She wouldn’t put it past her sister to be in cahoots with Jennifer when it came to planning this fiasco of a trip. Laura, madly in love, probably thought it only natural that Clarisse should be mooning over some man. And her best friend was just as bad. Jennifer believed a woman wasn’t quite right in the head if she didn’t have a man around.

“I know I could never wait that long to get married,” Vivian purred, clasping his hand. “I guess I like spontaneity, or maybe I’m just too impatient. I’d never be able to wait six months—never mind four years! If I got hold of a man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with and he felt the same, I’d have him down that aisle so fast his head would be spinning.”

“I’m glad to hear there’s still some women out there who believe in marriage.”

At John’s barb, Clarisse clamped her jaw shut in annoyance and looked out the window, dissociating herself from the conversation. They were out of the city now. The trees and rolling hills on each side of the highway were a vibrant green, bursting with life after an unusually cold winter. She opened the window a little to let the crisp, spring breeze tease the hair along her brow and cheeks. The scent of last night’s rain still clung to the air.

I’ll at ease with the silence permeating the car, Clarisse pulled a novel from her purse and set out to read. This way she could politely avoid participating in any future conversation.

After reading three chapters, though, she put the book down and closed her eyes. The motion of the car and the hum of the tires soon had her drifting off to sleep.

The slam of the car door woke her abruptly. She jumped. Her head snapped forward, and the book on her lap tumbled to the floor.

“I thought we’d take a break for lunch,” John said directly beside her.

She started in surprise at finding him looking down at her with cool slate eyes, his hand resting along the top of her open door. Not thinking, she eased from the seat and stepped out into the parking lot of a restaurant. Her leg took half her weight. Her knee buckled, and she stumbled into John. He grasped her arms to steady her. Twisting around on one foot to get her balance, she swung her injured knee around, smacking him right between the legs.

John grunted. His hands tightened on her arms. His breath, warm and smelling of coffee and peppermint, brushed her ear and ruffled her hair.

Mortified, Clarisse arched backward and met John’s pained expression. “I’m sorry! Are you all right?”

“Give me a second,” he murmured.

She tried not to think how her nipples touched the hard wall of his chest or how the familiar scent of his aftershave made her remember...

No. She’d concentrate on his Adam’s apple and the indentations of his collarbone. No. That wouldn’t work either.

“Are you all right now?” She grew uncomfortable.