Yesterday's Bride (12 page)

At the familiar melting sensation that was flowing through her, Leigh broke the contact.

"I'd better check on Jody and put a few things into an overnight bag."

"Leigh," he stopped her with a curt command, "pack everything, we're moving. If we're going to have to smell paint, we might as well do so in comfort at the house." His smile was almost tender. "Who knows what else you might take it into that pretty head of yours to tackle if I leave you around here. My next tenant is already enough in your debt."

Her pulse rate doing double-time, she went to get their things ready. With Jason helping, the move to the main house was accomplished in record time. Basically they had only their clothes and Jody's toys to transfer, and the cottage to tidy and close up.

Since Smitty was not expecting them, Leigh undertook to prepare their rooms while Smitty started on the impromptu dinner party. Leigh and Jody were given connecting rooms, and Leigh was glad the child would be near her, but it was a luxury to have a room to herself once again.

She stationed Jody at a small table with a box of building bricks, and humming to herself aired their rooms and put fresh linens on the beds. That finished, she went reluctantly along to do Jason's room, Jody trailing behind.

As she worked, she couldn't help wondering at Jason's change of heart in allowing her to stay in his home. Maybe he had tired of trying to punish her.

When she went to give Smitty a hand, Leigh found everything well under way. Between the two of them they were soon putting on the finishing touches, and Leigh even had time to take a restless Jody for a short walk in the garden before giving her her dinner.

Finally Leigh was able to have her long-awaited bath. She filled the lemon yellow tub with steaming hot water and sprinkled in a generous dose of the bath oil she discovered on the bathroom shelf. As she sank gratefully into the soft, scented water, she could feel the soreness easing out of her muscles and she stayed as long as she dared, giving herself up to pure, sensuous pleasure.

Leigh decided to wear the black lace dress. With the exquisitely groomed Paula Knight around, she would need every boost to her confidence she could get. Somehow the woman always made her feel at a disadvantage, but tonight would be an exception, Leigh decided, the sparkle of combat in her eyes.

With its high neckline and long sleeves, the black gown could have looked demure, but the skin-toned peach underslip peeping through the lace took care of that. The dress fit Leigh's slim form like a glove, the long skirt dropping in an arrow-straight line to her feet, and only a slit up one side allowed her enough room to take a step.

The gown enhanced the fragile quality about Leigh, its midnight color emphasizing her fairness. Despite the fact that she was rather tall for a woman, Leigh somehow conveyed a wistful, dreamlike beauty.

To accent the Victorian style of the gown, she swept her silvery hair into a knot at the top of her head, teasing a few tendrils out to curl around her ears and neck. Using all her model's skill, she brushed a silver-blue shadow onto her eyelids, touched her cheeks with rosy blusher and her lips with a matching deep pink, and she was quickly ready. She was just giving her makeup a last check in the mirror when the door to her room opened. Through the mirror she saw Jason appear, an elegant stranger in evening clothes.

"Closed doors are for knocking," she pointed out coolly, refusing to turn around.

"This is my house and you're my wife," he returned arrogantly, matching her tone.

At that, Leigh swung to face him. "Did you want something?"

He didn't answer, but his look was insinuating.

Leigh stood up, her carriage straight and full of unconscious pride.

"I'm ready, if that's what you came to see about." She walked over to the bed and picked up a black beaded evening purse lying there.

"What are you so nervous about?" he asked, too close for comfort, his observant eyes noting the slight tremor of the hand clutching the bag.

"Is it because I'm in here? Women's bedrooms are no novelty to me, Leigh."

"Well, I'm not used to having a man in mine."

He continued to stare at her a long moment before his mouth relaxed in a genuine smile, so appealing that it took her breath away.

"No, I don't think you are, little one," he said softly, so close to her his breath touched her forehead.

Discomfited, she was toying with the snap fastening of her purse when his next words brought her head up with a jerk.

"I've brought you a present."

He reached inside his blue velvet dinner jacket and brought out a small square case, which he handed to her.

"Open it," he ordered.

On a bed of black satin lay a pair of diamond earrings, the large round stones winking blue-white in the overhead light.

Leigh caught her breath with a gasp. "They're beautiful."

She closed the case and handed it back to him.

"I can't accept them."

"Why not?" His voice was grim.

"They're too expensive, for one thing. For another, we're about to get an annulment to a marriage that never should have taken place. Why should you give me a gift?"

"Don't be so suspicious, Leigh," he said shortly. "I won't expect any—payment—if that's what's bothering you. The earrings are a trinket. I can well afford much more. The point is, to our guests tonight, you're my wife, and you'll look the part."

When she made no move to take the case from his hand, a muscle twitched at the side of his mouth.

"However much you may dislike me, Leigh, your soft heart won't let you make me the object of neighborhood gossip, will it? You'll look, and act, like a real wife tonight."

At his clever, absolutely correct reasoning, Leigh took the jewels and screwed them onto her earlobes. The glance she threw him was full of exasperation.

"You are an impossible man, Jason Randall. Does anyone ever get the better of you?"

"Not if I can help it. Although a certain beautiful blonde keeps trying."

As he started to laugh, she joined in, unable to help herself, and together they walked downstairs to await their guests.

Leigh wanted to check the dining room, to make sure everything was in place, so Jason equably accompanied her. The mahogany table was now extended to its full length, its burnished sheen highlighted by place settings of shimmering crystal and bone china. Instead of a tablecloth, Leigh had chosen to use forest green linen mats, whose color was reflected in the greenery of the centerpiece of yellow forsythia and buttercups that she had arranged in a round bronze vase.

Her inspection satisfactory, Leigh let Jason lead her off to the drawing room where he poured them each a drink and raised his glass to her. What his toast would have been Leigh never knew for at that moment Paula Knight walked in. Tonight the tall brunette was dramatic in an off-the-shoulder gown of translucent sea green. Leigh and Jason scarcely had time to greet her before the Penders and Dan arrived. Apparently they had driven up at the same time.

The evening went well. Smitty had outdone herself with the food, from the first course of finely ground liver pate to the dessert of fresh strawberry mousse. Neither Leigh nor Jason had to strive to keep the conversation going, for it seemed that the others wanted to know all about Dan and his fascinating career in the world of magazine and television advertising. He answered their questions rather diffidently at first, but later, mellowed by the fine wine Jason served, he kept them amused with one anecdote after another. Although Leigh had been slightly nervous about hostessing her first dinner party, she realized that the good food and stimulating company made things easy. Jason helped, too, by replacing his usual mocking air for a relaxed, affectionate one. He was quiet, and every time Leigh looked down to the other end of the table where he sat, she caught his brooding eyes on her. She sensed a difference in him tonight, a change in manner that she could not quite pinpoint.

The Penders left soon after dinner was over, explaining that their baby-sitter had a curfew. From Betty's lively remarks and the smile on the face of her more laconic husband, Leigh could tell they had enjoyed themselves.

In the drawing room, Paula drifted over to Jason and began asking him questions concerning a business matter. Overhearing her, Dan turned to Leigh with a pensive look on his face.

"Your husband wouldn't be the Randall who owns International Trucking, by any chance?" he asked her.

"I don't know. I'm not really familiar with Jason's businesses."

Dan's lips pursed in a soundless whistle. "Unless I miss my guess, sweetie, you've caught yourself a big fish. If your Jason is who I think he is, he's a millionaire several times over."

Uncomfortable, Leigh picked up her liqueur glass and sipped at the almond-flavored drink it contained. Across the room, Jason and Paula seemed to be deep in conversation.

"Why don't we go out on the terrace," Leigh suggested to Dan. Now was as good a time as any to have that talk he had mentioned. He must be understandably puzzled about her supposedly sudden marriage and deserved some sort of assurance that she was planning to continue her career.

The night was warm and fragrant, the sweet smell of honeysuckle wafting on a light breeze. Leigh led the way over to a stone bench that overlooked the sweep of the lawn.

"Well, Leigh, you've certainly thrown me for a toss," Dan said rather sadly. "I had hoped—oh, never mind."

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "Everything happened very quickly."

She intended to tell Dan the whole story, but she decided it would be better to wait until she was back in New York, with all of this behind her, if it ever could be. With Jason and Paula just inside, she could be interrupted at any time. And besides, it was better for Dan to get used to the idea that she was unavailable.

She had enjoyed going out with him, but she knew now that there was no chance for anything more serious than friendship to develop between them, and she didn't want to mislead him.

"I have a confession to make." Dan nervously pushed back the fair hair that flopped over his narrow forehead. "I was worried about you, but I had another reason for coming to find you."

As Leigh listened in silence, he told her about a commission he had secured for her, to model Alain Desmains's new fall collection in Paris for
Femme
magazine.

"It's a fantastic opportunity," he ended, his thin face alight with enthusiasm. "Desmains saw that evening wear spread you did for
Vogue
last winter and asked for you. Do you realize what that means, Leigh? He's the biggest designer in Europe. You'll be in demand, you'll have an international reputation."

She hated to quench his excitement but she had no choice.

"It sounds wonderful, but I can't get away right now, Dan."

"Surely you're not giving up your career, not now when you're right at the top. Your husband will understand."

"No, I'm not giving up my career, but as I told you, I need to take some time off."

"You're not pregnant?" He sounded horrified.

"No." She shrugged. "I don't suppose Desmains would be willing to wait a few months."

"Leigh, Desmains won't wait a few days. You have to go back with me now. He wants you in Paris by the twelfth."

As if to convince her, he leaned forward and peered at her in the half-light. "Every model I know would jump at this chance. You can't turn it down. Desmains would never hire you again."

Realizing that he was unable to shake her resolve, Dan lowered his head, a picture of quiet desperation.

"I gave my word, Leigh, that you would do it," he mumbled.

Even as she felt anger that Dan would make a commitment without asking her first, a surge of pity coursed through her. Dan was a nice guy in a tough, competitive profession. To get where he was today, he had had to hustle, and sometimes to make compromises with his ethics. Not fulfilling a promise he had made to the designer would be a serious blow for his credibility, she knew that.

Torn, Leigh wanted to help him out of a spot, but she was bound by her promise to Jason.

"I wish I could help," she told him, putting her hand on his arm.

"You won't change your mind?"

"I can't. I promised Jason not to work for—a while."

Their intense concentration was broken as the French window opened and Jason stepped out onto the terrace.

"Leigh, Paula is ready to leave. I was sure you'd want to say good-night to her."