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before. It never looked that way before. Do you understand what I'm trying
to say?"
Carly stared at her for a moment, then let out a soft, slow whistle. "Girl,
you're in some deep doo-doo here. You idiot, can't you see that if he can get
you this high, he can also knock you lower than Hades?"
"I know," Anne said, smiling again. "He's done that already. He threw me
into hell, then pulled me out." She shook her head and gave a soft laugh.
"What can you do with a man like that?"
"Run," Carly said succinctly. "As far and as fast as your legs will carry you.
He's out of town, by the way."
"Out of town? He didn't say anything about that."
Carly shrugged. "It was apparently something that came up unexpectedly.
He told me to tell you he'd call you tomorrow and let you know when hell
get back."
Anne felt disappointment jab her heart, then spread inch by inch through her
body. Would she ever get over the fear that gripped her when he wasn't in
her sight, the fear that she would have to go back to being without him
again?
"He didn't say where he was going?" she asked slowly.
Carly shook her head. "Not a word. Just that it was unavoidable. It probably
had something to do with the project he's working on."
"Probably," Anne murmured in agreement. But she wasn't sure. Something
didn't feel right. Something simply didn't feel right.
Max stepped out of the car he had rented at the Phoenix airport and leaned
against the door as he glanced around, checking out the Spanish-style house.
It was an expensive place. An extravagant place.
He didn't want to be here, but he could see noother way out. The thing he
had seen in Annie's eyes, the thing that hit at the heart of him, uncovering
long-buried hope, allowing it to take over his every waking thought, had
brought him here. There was no future for them until he could make a clean
break with the past.
Drawing in a slow, steadying breath, he closed the car door and moved
toward the house. It was time for the first step.
The woman who opened the front door for him was as extravagant as the
house. And as expensive. Smooth platinum hair brushed her shoulders, and
the casual silk jumpsuit looked like the kind of thing Ellie used to model.
What he could see of her face a quarter of it was hidden by oversized,
rose-tinted sunglasses was as flawless as the rest of her.
"Mrs. Decatur?" he said.
"That's right." Her tone was just slightly defensive, as though he had
accused her of something. "What do you want?"
"I'm here to see your husband. His office said he was working at home
today."
She frowned. "Is he expecting you?"
Max hid a smile. "Probably not. In fact I can almost guarantee he's not, but if
youll tell him his brother is here, maybe hell make time for me!"
"His brother? There are no brothers. Roger is an only child."
Max burst out laughing, pleased to find that he still had a sense of humor. So
Roger was an only child.
"He wishes," Max said, still smiling. "I'm sorry,
Mrs. Decatur, but I really am his brother Max. Aunt Charlotte raised both of
us."
"You have my sympathies." she muttered. "That woman could turn
powdered milk sour. I make sure I'm out of town when she comes for a visit.
Way out of town. Like Greenland or Africa." She nibbled at her glossy pink
lip. "I suppose you'd better come in . . . Max. And call me Julia. Not even the
maid calls me Mrs. Decatur." She walked briskly down the hall, leaving him
to follow. "Roger is working out by the pool. If you'll go on out, I'll get Mary
to bring refreshments. Nice meeting you," she added as an afterthought just
before she disappeared.
Max found the double doors that led to the pool and walked outside. He
stood for a moment, taking in the scene. Two children were in the pool.
Loud children. Angry children. The younger one, a boy, looked as though he
was trying to drown the older one.
The man Max assumed was father to the two hooligans was beneath a
striped umbrella, reclining in a lounge chair. But instead of working he was
in a sound sleep.
As Max watched, the children climbed out of the pool, and the boy chased
the girl around the perimeter. When they reached their father, instead of
going around the lounge chair, they went over it, and Max's brother woke up
swearing.
"Lane! Dee-Dee!" he screamed at them. "You get your little butts in the
house. Now! Damn it, why can't I get a little work done without you two
screwing it up? And if you think I'm taking you with me tomorrow, you can
just forget it!"
His tanned face flushed with anger, he watched as the children passed him
on their way to the house, then he returned to the lounge chair.
The children the boy looked about five and his sister was probably
eight ran by Max with little more than a passing glance, their argument
continuing in hissing whispers.
When the door closed behind the pair. Max began to walk toward the pool,
and he had almost reached it before Roger saw him. An instant later the
younger man was on his feet, staring and gasping in shock.
The years had not been kind to Roger. He had always had a round face, but
now he had a body to match. And the plaid bermuda shorts he wore with a
yellow sport shirt were a big mistake. He looked like a tourist who had
misplaced his camera.
It was strange. Max had expected to feel a lot of things when he finally saw [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]