Yesterday's Bride (11 page)

"Thank you, no. I didn't mean to interrupt your evening, but," she turned wide blue eyes to Jason, "my car is making a funny noise and I didn't want to try to drive it home and chance breaking down. Since I was near here, I thought I'd call on Jason."

At the appeal in the blue eyes, Jason visibly softened. "Of course, Paula, that was the thing to do. I'll go take a look at it. Won't be a minute." He started toward the door.

Paula was right behind him. "I'd like to come with you if you don't mind. That way, I can get some idea of what the problem is."

When Smitty came in for the tray ten minutes later, she found Leigh staring vacantly at the carpet, her coffee cold in the cup.

"Are you going to let her get away with it?" she asked sharply.

"What?" Leigh looked up, startled.

"You know what I mean. The secretary. This isn't the first time she's dropped in here on one pretext or another." Smitty's hands went to perch on her narrow hips.

"She's been after Jason since before you came here, and it looks like not even a wife will stop her."

"I don't have any right to stop her, Smitty. You know that."

"Don't you?" With a disgusted snort, Smitty picked up the tray and went back to the kitchen.

After a few minutes, Jason returned to report that he couldn't find the trouble with the car, and since Paula was reluctant to drive it, he would take her home once he had dropped Leigh and Jody off at the cottage.

Leigh collected Jody, thanked Smitty for the meal, and followed Jason outside. During the short ride, she was very quiet. She had a lot to think about.

One last swish with the small brush and Leigh was finished. It was a good thing there wasn't another strip of molding to do, she decided, peering into the now empty paint can.

Leigh had enjoyed herself. After she had brushed down the walls, she had rollered with enthusiasm, stepping back now and again to admire her handiwork. The once-mottled walls shone a gleaming white. It was surprising what a fresh coat of paint could do.

With a sigh of satisfaction, Leigh got to her feet. Oh, but she could use a hot bath once all this lot was cleared away, she told herself.

She gathered up the newspapers that lined the living room floor and bundled them under one arm. With the paint can and brush carefully balanced in the other hand, she made her precarious way to the kitchen. There she plopped everything disposable into the large garbage can and went to check on Jody.

The child was still sleeping soundly, her favorite stuffed bear cuddled under her arm. Leigh tiptoed out, closing the door quietly behind her. She hoped the barrier of the door would be sufficient to keep the paint fumes to a minimum. The clerk in the hardware store had assured her the paint was a quick-drying one, but still, a picnic supper outside this evening would probably be a good idea.

She was in the kitchen putting the brush in a pail of turpentine to soak when she heard a call from the open front door.

A thin blond man wearing a well-cut tan suit stood there, peering short-sightedly into the room as if trying to adjust his eyes from the brightness outside.

"Dan!" Leigh cried incredulously. "What in the world are you doing here?"

At the sound of her voice, relief showed in the boyishly attractive face. "I might ask you the same thing. Leigh, do you know what a time I've had tracking you down?"

He stepped forward to meet her halfway and take both her hands in his. At closer range, he gaped. "At least, I think it's Leigh. My word, what have you done to yourself, darling?"

Ruefully she touched the green bandanna concealing her hair and glanced down at the paint-spattered jeans. Not quite the way her agent was accustomed to seeing her. In fact, she doubted if Dan had ever seen her before with a hair out of place.

Leigh gave a helpless laugh. "I've been painting."

"So I see, but I'm not sure I believe my eyes." He surveyed the room with its open windows and sheet-draped furniture, his nose wrinkling fastidiously at the strong chemical smell.

"What in God's name are you doing in this place? I thought you said you were going to Raleigh."

"I'm living here—temporarily, anyway. Didn't you get my telegram?"

"Yes, I got it." Dan's hands tightened as his pale blue eyes studied her.

"Are you all right? You were working long hours on that Lovelight ad just before you got word about your grandfather and I know how hard his death hit you. You had to get away, didn't you?"

His expression said she must have taken leave of her senses, but he was trying to understand.

"Dan, I…"

"No, not another word. There's no need for explanations. I'm here to look after you. What you need is to get back to New York, back to what's familiar."

To confirmed city-dweller Dan, life in the country would border on purgatory. He would never believe that anyone would willingly want to stay here. It was so quiet!

His arms went around Leigh in a gentle embrace. "I'll take care of everything, my dear," he murmured into her ear as to a distraught child.

"Am I interrupting?" Jason stood in the doorway, a hint of implacability about his lean, hard form.

Leigh went stiff and Dan dropped his arms to turn around.

"Dan, this is my husband, Jason Randall." With an effort, Leigh introduced the two men.

"Husband!" Dan parroted. He was thunderstruck. Leigh, married! And to this formidable-looking man.

"Well, I can't say this isn't a surprise," he managed, extending a hand to Jason. Surprise was putting it mildly. Such impulsive behavior was something he would never have expected from the cool Leigh.

"It's a long story, Dan," Leigh was starting to explain when Jason broke in with the suggestion that they sit down. While he was taking the sheets off the sofa and chairs, Leigh went to the kitchen for cool drinks. From the looks of Dan he could use something stronger, but all she had was iced tea.

She returned to find the men seated and chatting amiably. Offering the drinks, she perched on the edge of a chair.

"I wish you the best, Leigh, you know that." Dan cleared his throat. "I guess I'll need some details. Do you, ah, plan to continue modeling now that you're married?"

"Why don't you join us for dinner this evening, Mr. Morgan. Then you and my wife will have ample opportunity to talk," Jason said easily. He leaned across to place his hand lightly, but possessively over Leigh's. "Are you staying in Harrellsville?"

On learning the name of Dan's hotel, Jason gave him directions to the main house, named a time, and within minutes they were seeing the agent to his car.

Leigh started to the kitchen to finish clearing away the painting debris, but Jason halted her.

"You didn't finish your iced tea," he pointed out, waiting politely for her to resume her seat.

As before, he sprawled on the sofa, but Leigh got the impression that the ease he conveyed was deceptive, that he was about as relaxed as a tiger, tightly coiled, ready to spring.

"Just who is he, Leigh?" Jason asked softly.

"I told you. Dan's my agent. He arranges my photo sessions, gets me commissions, sets up interviews, things like that."

Jason picked up his glass and drained it. "What else is he?"

"He's a friend. A good friend."

"How good?"

"Just what are you driving at, Jason?" Leigh was getting decidedly annoyed.

"Don't be naive, my dear. I simply want to know if you sleep with him."

"That's none of your business," she spat out.

She had gone out with Dan a couple of times recently, and she liked him as well, perhaps better, than any other man she knew. He was kind and considerate, they had their work and friends in common, and he made her laugh. Also, he didn't turn into an octopus at the end of the evening. Just a good-night kiss at her door and he left.

"Answer me, blast it." Tired of waiting for an elaboration, Jason took Leigh's chin in an ungentle hold and forced her face up to his.

"I've been out with Dan a few times, but that's all," she capitulated. "I like him.
He's
a gentleman," she added with emphasis.

"Something I'm not, you mean?" Jason let her go and got up to wander over to the open window. "Did you ask him to come here?" he asked abruptly, swinging around and hooking his thumbs into the belt of his snug-fitting blue denim jeans.

"No." Leigh's eyes shot gray fire at him, her feelings stung at his continual distrust of her. "As I've told you innumerable times before, I'll stay until your brother and Clare come back. I gave you my word and I'll keep it."

"What about your marriage vows?" he asked strangely.

"What? I don't understand."

He chose to drop the subject. "Hmmm, I wonder what your good friend Dan wants."

Leigh took a deep breath, anxious for this curious inquisition to end. "He came to see if I was all right. He was worried about me."

"Maybe." Jason's tone was skeptical. In three pantherlike strides he was across the room, in front of Leigh. He took in her wide, misty-colored eyes, the perfectly formed mouth, features whose purity was outlined by the severity of the green scarf.

"Oh, he fancies you, all right. I could see that. But this is a long way to come for a fancy."

Jason raked an impatient hand through his coal black hair, leaving it in disarray. "We'll find out tonight, I suppose." He dismissed the subject of Dan and sat down again.

"Will you help Smitty with arrangements for the dinner?"

"Yes, of course. As soon as Jody wakes up, we can go over to the house." Leigh was relieved at the change of subject.

"You might as well plan to spend the night there. It will be too late to bring Jody back." He paused, rubbing at his chin.

"Maybe I should ask Paula to join us, to round out the numbers."

"I thought the idea was for Dan and me to talk."

"You'll have plenty of time with him, don't worry. If Paula comes, then I'll have someone to talk to as well." A sardonic smile edged his mouth.

"Then why not ask the Penders and make it a real dinner party?" Leigh challenged, only half serious.

"Why not." To her surprise, he nodded agreement. "You like Betty Pender, don't you?"

Leigh's affirmative answer was rather defensive. She was wondering if he was implying that she was immune to making friends or liking people.

As she went to rise from the chair, she felt a protest from muscles that had had too much unaccustomed exercise.

"What's wrong?" Immediately Jason was there to help her up.

"Nothing, I'm fine." She shrugged away from his disturbing touch.

"You overdid it today." It was a flat statement. He needed no other confirmation than the walls around him, which he was noticing all of a sudden.

"Do you like it? It looks better, don't you think?"

"Much better." But he was looking at her. "You know, Leigh, I didn't think you'd really do it." His eyes raked the slender form of the girl standing beside him. "You look too delicate to raise a window shade, much less paint an entire room all by yourself and still come out fighting."

"I'm stronger than I look."

"I'm beginning to realize that."

For one long, breathless moment he was gazing deep into her eyes, seeming to see through to her very soul.