Read The Scarlet Thread Online
Authors: Francine Rivers
“Why
are
you asking?”
“Because I don’t want to see you hurt.”
She gave a bleak laugh. She had never heard such a flimsy
excuse in her life. Especially from him.
“You
hurt me, Alex. Ron
doesn’t have that kind of power over me.”
He leaned toward her, eyes intent, searching. “Don’t go out
with him tonight.”
Looking into those dark depths, she remembered everything
from the past. She knew why he warned her. When they were
young and deeply in love, when her emotions had crested over
some crisis, real or imagined, Alex had been the one to catch the
wave and ride the passion.
“I’m not your concern anymore, Alex. I haven’t been for eight
months.” Why should those words bring that wounded worried
look into his eyes? She felt compelled to set his mind at ease and
gave him a tender smile. “Someone told me to grow up. I have.”
The doorbell rang.
A muscle jerked in his cheek and he stood up. “I’ll tell him
you’re not feeling well.”
She stood as well. “No, you won’t.” Truth have it, she wasn’t, but
she had no intention of leaving Ron high and dry. This fund-raiser
was far too important to him and his work. “I feel fine, Alex.”
“You’re pale.” He turned his head sharply as the door was
unlocked. “What’d you do? Give him a key?”
“Hey, Mom!” Clanton said, barging in. “Aren’t you going to
let Ron in?” He stared at her.
“Wow!”
“You can say that again,” Ron said from right behind him. He
didn’t even notice Alex. He couldn’t have been more open in his
admiration, which went a long way to bolstering her spirits.
Clanton brushed past her in his hurry to dump his soccer gear in
his bedroom.
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“You take my breath away, Sierra,” Ron said, leaning down to
kiss her lightly on the cheek. She felt a touch of sadness that his
compliment didn’t have a fraction of the effect Alex’s had. As
Ron straightened, she saw his expression alter slightly and knew
he had seen her ex-husband. She took his hand deliberately.
“Ron, this is Alex. Alex, I’d like you to meet Ron Peirozo, a
dear friend of mine.”
Ron held out his hand. Alex hesitated for a fraction of a second
before taking it. Neither said anything. They were too busy measuring one another. Sierra knew under other circumstances they
would get along very well. They might even be friends. Right
now, she was the only common ground—and not one that would
bring them together.
Letting go of Ron’s hand, she picked up her purse and gloves.
He took the red cape and laid it over her shoulders. His hands
gripped her arms gently, drawing her a few inches closer to him.
“Ready to go?”
Alex understood the gesture and shoved his hands into his
pockets. “Have a nice evening.”
Sierra walked with Ron to the door. Ron gave Alex a nod as he
opened it for her. “Nice meeting you, Alex.”
“Yeah, likewise.”
She didn’t look back. She didn’t dare.
Ron didn’t mention Alex, nor did she. He spent the drive to
downtown Los Angeles filling her in on the programs at Los Angeles Outreach. “People are going to be asking you questions,”
he said and made sure she knew what was going on.
As she stood beside Ron and greeted guests as they arrived,
she recognized numerous faces and names. Several lingered over
her hand, making fulsome compliments. Ron teased her about it
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to keep some of these animals back.”
She was proud of Ron and impressed by him as he stood at
the podium and gave a flawless and relaxed welcome and presentation. He was as at ease in front of this crowd of socially
elite as he was with the children he found in the ghettos and
beneath the freeways. She knew that those listening to him
would be only too willing to support him and his work. He was
sincere, zealous, and accomplishing a great deal. The young
men and women serving were all “graduates” of the program.
“Talk to them, and they’ll tell you the difference Outreach has
made in their lives. The Lord has blessed us that we might
bless others. . . .”
When the band started playing, Ron led her out onto the dance
floor. “I’ve already had several pledges that’ll cover the next few
months’ expenses,” he said, holding her close. She felt the
warmth of his hand at the small of her back and the brush of his
thighs. He was a good dancer, smooth and graceful, guiding her
expertly. She felt safe and protected in his arms.
After the first dance, she had other partners, all interested
in hearing about Los Angeles Outreach and Ron Peirozo. A
few asked her about her relationship to him. A few just wanted
to get close enough to ask her out. She was flattered but not interested.
Ron danced with her again several times and needled her unmercifully. “I thought you’d succumb to that actor’s charms for
certain,” he said, inclining his head toward a movie star who’d
danced with her several times.
“Are you kidding?”
“I saw you swooning when he took your hand.”
“That was before I spent five minutes with him. The guy’s no
better than a neighborhood masher. He asked me to spend a
weekend in Hawaii with him. Can you believe it?”
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“I believe it. I’ve had a few licentious thoughts of my own
about you this evening. Want to go sailing with me?”
“Knock it off, Peirozo.”
He laughed. “See the gentleman over there talking with
Arlene? He was just asking me if you were taken.”
“Tell him
yes.”
“I already did.” Leaning down, he kissed the curve of her neck.
Alex used to kiss her in the same place. With him, it had always
sent melting heat all through her body and made her knees weak.
With Ron, she didn’t feel anything but the pleasing warmth of
his lips.
She talked with so many people she lost count. She danced
until her feet ached, and she relished every minute of it. On the
drive back to Northridge, Ron talked about the pledges he’d
received and what it would mean to ongoing programs. They’d
made enough money in one evening to cover foundation expenses for the next year.
He pulled into the Haven’s parking lot and shut off the engine
of his Mercedes. Turning to her, he smiled. “Did you have a good
time?”
“Wonderful,” she said, drowsy. She never stayed up past
eleven-thirty, and it was almost two in the morning. She felt the
light brush of his fingers and looked into his eyes. Warmth and
desire were there, unhidden. For one brief moment, she wondered what it would be like to be loved by Ron. “I’d better go in,”
she said softly.
Sensitive to her feelings, Ron touched her cheek lightly and
then got out of the car. He came around and opened her door,
handing her out. They didn’t say anything as they walked along
the pathway to her condo. The porch light was on. She wondered if Alex was asleep on the couch.
Turning to Ron, she thanked him for the lovely evening. “Anytime,” he said, leaning down to kiss her cheek. Thanking him
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door. Glancing back, she smiled.
“Good night,” Ron said and headed back along the pathway to
his car.
Not looking into the living room, Sierra closed the door
quietly.
“How was it?” Alex said, snapping Mary Kathryn’s journal
shut and tossing it heedlessly on the hatch-cover table.
The sound of his voice and thump of the book made her jump.
“Wonderful,” she said, turning to him. “How was your evening?”
“Bueno.”
He stood up. He didn’t even look vaguely tired. His
eyes were clear and sharp. “We went out to eat and then rented a
couple of movies.”
“Sounds like fun.” Her stomach knotted with tension at the
look on his face. He was angry, though about what she didn’t
know. And she had no intention of asking. “Well, thank you for
watching the children for me. I appreciate it.”
“Sure.”
“I’m sorry it’s so late.”
“You said it would be.” He crossed the living room and stood
in front of her. A small frown briefly puckered his brow as he
studied her face. “I guess I’d better go.”
“Yes,” she said, having difficulty breathing, “I guess you
should.” She looked around. “Did you bring a jacket with you?”
“No.” His mouth tipped in the sensual smile that had turned
her heart over at sixteen. It still had that same effect. “Worried
about me getting cold between here and my condo? I’m only
three doors away.”
“I think you’re warm enough.” She opened the door. “Good
night, Alex.”
He paused in the doorway and looked back at her. “Did he kiss
you good night?”
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She blushed. “Not that it’s any of your business, but
no,
he did
not
kiss me good night.”
Stepping back inside, he cupped the back of her head and
abruptly pulled her forward. Before she could gather her wits,
he leaned down and planted his mouth firmly over hers in a hard,
hot kiss. He released her as suddenly as he’d held her, smiling
sardonically. “You looked like you needed kissing,” he said
roughly.
Sierra stepped back from him, her heart pounding in her ears.
His eyes went dark as they stared into hers. He took another
step toward her. “You still do.”
“Don’t,”
she whispered desperately.
He wasn’t listening. Kicking the door shut with his foot, Alex
caught hold of her and pulled her against his hard chest. His
head came down and he kissed her again, with the same devastating effect she’d experienced the first time on the Mathesen
Street porch so many years ago. He kissed her as though he
never intended to let her go. . . .
For a moment she struggled against him. He dug his hands
into her hair until it was tumbling about her shoulders and down
her back. He kept on kissing her until her insides began to melt
and quake.
Her love and the long months of celibacy and loneliness
worked against her. Physical hunger swept through her. Sweet
memories pulsed.
Oh, God! Oh, God, this is what you meant it to be between a husband
and wife!
Husband.
Wife.
Not anymore.
In the midst of the storm of wonderful sensation came the
army of doubts marching through her fevered brain, armed with
devastation weapons.
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