Chapter 11
"How did you know I was out there?" she stammered, as she massaged her bruised wrist where he had gripped her.
"You should be smart enough to know that when you stick that lovely mug of yours up against a lighted window-pane, only a blind man could fail to see it," he snapped. "I trust you got a good earful?"
She gave a little trill of happy laughter, as she settled herself comfortably, and touched busy fingers to her lovely, slightly disordered hair. Her eyes were brimming with acid amusement, and Don's hands clenched into hard, tight fists because he was so torn with the desire to beat hell out of her.
"Oh, I wouldn't have missed it for worlds!" she carolled gaily.
"I didn't think you would," he told her grimly. "I felt sure you were out there, even before I saw you...."
She grinned wickedly at him, her eyes derisive.
"It didn't work out the way you thought it would, did it?" she mocked.
"No, because you're a damned sight smarter than I gave you credit for being-I grant you that!" he said grimly, his eyes raking her from the top of her lovely, shining head to the tips of her shining silver slippers, damp and smudged with dew and grass stains now.
Her eyes widened a little, and she gave a little happy chuckle.
"Well, gee, t'anks, pal!" she mocked lightly.
She watched him, completely at ease, smiling, obviously very pleased that she had succeeded so well in upsetting his plans.
Don mixed drinks, handed her one, and Gayle accepted it, her eyebrows going up a little in mocking question. "No arsenic?" she asked sweetly. "Unfortunately, no. I happen to be fresh out of arsenic
-just when I could use some to such excellent advantage, too," he told her shortly, and walked the length of the room and back again, running his fingers through his hair.
He stopped at last and with one hand balled in his pocket, the other holding his glass, he looked down at her, studying her almost as though he had never set eyes on her before.
She leaned forward to brush the ash from her cigarette, and still leaning forward, quite conscious of the lovely revelation her low cut gown made of her exquisite breasts, she looked up at him through her lashes.
"Like it?" she drawled.
"It?"
She laughed softly. "Them!"
"Hell, yes-I'm crazy about 'em-and you-and I'm scared as hell I'm in love with you, and if I am I should have my head examined or else I should cut my throat from ear to ear and spare myself a lot of misery!" he told her savagely.
Her eyes widened a little and she leaned back, sipping her drink, watching him.
"Oh, I wouldn't be upset if I were you-not about me," she drawled. "There's not the slightest danger that you are in love with me-you couldn't be-not with what you know about me."
But there was a startled, almost wary look in her eyes and she hated herself because suddenly she was breathing a little faster and his eyes upon her could not miss the sudden uneven rising and falling of her tempting breasts.
"That's what I keep trying to tell myself, damn it," he exploded so suddenly that she blinked and sat a little straighter. "I can't possibly be in love with you-and yet, damn it, I'm on fire when you are around or I even think of you. I am in love with you-and I think I hate you, too...."
"That I can easily believe," she taunted him mockingly, enjoying every moment of this cat-and-mouse game.
"You've spoiled all other women for me-and for that I could wring your lovely neck! Or worse!"
"Oh-there's always Sue, you know-I'm quite sure I haven't spoiled Sue for you-because you are just the kind of damned fool to fall in love with a simple little sap like that who thinks sleeping with a man is a terrible ordeal-a little like being boiled in oil!" She saw his tension at her mention of Sue and went on, softly, significantly, knowing that every word flicked him on the raw and joying in the knowledge. "You'd hate having to force yourself upon a reluctant wife every time you wanted to make love to her-and you can take my word for it, that Sue would be plenty reluctant. Oh, she's been brought up to believe that she should submit to her husband's 'messily unpleasant and horrid demands'-but just submitting-you wouldn't get much fun out of that."
"All Sue needs is-the right man to teach her-the truth...." His voice was low, almost husky. His words made her furious and she clenched her hands tightly and ground her teeth before she could speak.
"And, of course, you alone are the man for that-pleasant little job," she derided tautly.
His jaw was set and hard and he lifted his drink and swallowed thirstily before he risked his voice to answer.
"I-think I might handle the-er-job with a little lesser-shock to her than Clyde will do," he said almost as though the words were forced from him against his will. "But it happens that she is in love with Clyde, and as you heard from your listening post outside the window, Clyde is in love with her-so where does that leave you?"
Before she could control herself Gayle said savagely, "Behind the eight ball, of course, where I've been since the day I was born."
Don nodded.
"Glad you can see it that way," he said grimly. "Because if you think for one cockeyed moment that you could ever marry Clyde...."
Gayle laughed derisively.
"Look, you big oaf! I could snap him up tomorrow if I wanted him," she scoffed. "If that damned burglar hadn't come along, I'd have had him trying to make me right there in the garden. And I would have wept a little, in gentle reproach, and admitted I simply adored him, but we must be fair to poor Sue-and I'd have managed to hint that Sue would be much happier married to you-and before dawn we'd have crossed the state line and been married! It can still happen like that-if I want it to." Don was startled, frowning.
"If you want it to?" he repeated not quite sure that he had understood her.
She looked down into her glass, as though her whole interest was centered on the melting ice cubes in the amber-colored liquid.
"I'm not a bit sure I do," she admitted with a frankness that surprised herself. "Oh, being married to a faithful, plodding steady guy like Clyde would be a certain sort of security, I suppose-but it would be pretty damned dull, too."
Don was tense, strained as he watched her and a little afraid to speak lest he disrupt whatever train of thought it was that she was following. She swirled the ice cubes again, and drew a little sigh.
"Oh, of course, marriage is a nice safeguard for the future, when a gal like me has to start watching her weight, and wearing uplift bras, maybe even 'falsies'." She shuddered at the thought and one hand went up instinctively to caress the round full firmness of her breasts as though to reassure herself that it was not yet in any danger of losing its exquisite firm resilience.
Don watched her alertly, and his eyes were suddenly veiled and wary. But she shrugged and glanced up at him, smiling.
"So I might be tempted to marry Clyde, after all," she said coolly. "After all, a year or so of marriage wouldn't be too bad and alimony for the rest of my life-well, a girl has to look ahead, you know."
Don finished his drink and refilled the glass, his back to her while he finished the task. And then he turned, and leaned against the bar, eying her straightly.
"Sure, a girl has to look ahead," he said carefully. "But if marriage looks to you like a safeguard for the future-why plan such a short-term business with a man who bores you? Why not think about marrying a man who-excites you and thrills you and who could do a hell of a lot more towards providing for your future than Clyde could?"
She was very still for a moment, her eyes meeting his. And then at something she saw in his eyes, her own widened a little and she caught her lower lip between her teeth and steadied herself before she asked coolly, "Sounds nice-but where would I find such a man?"
Don grinned at her, and some of the tautness went out of him.
"Well, not more than a few feet away at the moment," he said almost gently.
For a shocked, incredulous moment, Gayle stared at him, her eyes enormous in a face that was suddenly pale as old ivory. She was dazed and shaken to the depths of her being; but after a wild moment she managed to make a flying clutch at her self-control and her mouth thinned in a little ugly smile.
"Who the hell do you think you're kidding?" she spat at him viciously.
Don went on studying her coolly, almost speculatively, his eyes narrowed a little, and he sipped his drink slowly, almost as though he had forgotten that he held it.
"Myself, mostly," he admitted with a frankness so convincing that it was in itself disarming. "I know, of course, what I'll be letting myself in for by marrying you-just plain, hard-boiled unvarnished hell. But not to marry you, would be even worse hell. Because, damn you, I've never seen a woman who excited me as you do; I never believed it was possible for any woman to mean as much to me as you do."
Gayle was speechless, just watching him, listening, not believing it because she was afraid to believe it, yet wanting to believe it so much that she was trembling and as limp as if she had spent the last two hours in his arms.
Don frowned down at his drink for a moment as though he wondered what was wrong with it, and turned back to the bar and freshened it a little. And when he turned again to face her, his jaw was set and hard and his eyes were cold, yet behind that bleakness there were banked flames that set her blood racing like mad and brought an upsurge of desire that shook her as a dog shakes a rat.
"Of course I know that for a little while after we are married, you may just possibly be-shall I be quaint and call it 'faithful'?" He derided the very word by his tone of voice. "That's because I damned well won't let you out of my sight long enough for you to be anything else. But afterwards, when I have to go back to the office, and when I won't be able to watch you so closely, I'll suffer the torments of the damned, wondering what the hell you're up to. Because I'll know that wherever you are, you're with a man, that my friends will have had you any time and any way they like...."
Her mouth was a little dry but she managed to say unsteadily, "If you feel like that about it, I wonder you're willing to risk marrying me at all."
His grin was almost disarmingly gentle.
"Because, damn it, I'd rather have you under those conditions than not to have you at all-it's as simple as that! Doesn't even make good sense, does it?" He mocked his own emotion but his voice was not as light as he would have liked it to sound.
"Of course not. It makes no kind of sense at all," she snapped crossly, because for some completely crazy reason there was a sudden mist of tears in her eyes and a lump in her throat. Hell, she was going all soft and droolly, like some damned fool about a subject that, in the past, had always aroused her bitter derision.
"Well, I've never heard it claimed that love made much sense, have you?" he asked mildly.
"Love? Phooey!" she cried out hotly. "Love's strictly for the birds-for the sappy dames who read romance magazines and believe in Santa Claus and fairy tales. Me, I wouldn't know one damned thing about it-I'm not even sure I want to!"
"Scared?" Don teased. "Well, I don't blame you. I am, too-but I'm more scared of losing whatever it is we have that makes our being together something pretty damned wonderful."
She drew a long hard breath and suddenly she lifted her glass and swallowed the contents almost. at a gulp and put down the empty glass with a little bang and stood up.
"Me," she told him sharply, "I'm getting the hell out of here...."
"Without even giving me an answer?"
She paused and eyed him uncertainly.
"After all, I made you a proposition...."
"Proposition? That I can understand. I've had those made to me before...."
"I bet!" his tone was dry, grim.
"But a proposal? To commit matrimony? I don't believe it!" she flashed at him.
"We can get into my car and cross the state line in three or four hours and be married," he pointed out.
She stared at him for a long moment and then she put her hands to her forehead and pushed back the flame-gold curls, like a child too puzzled for coherent speech. And to her stunned amazement, to her mounting fury, tears rose to her eyes and spilled over and suddenly she was sobbing almost wildly.
"Poor little devil!" said Don with honest affection and tenderness in his voice as his arms closed about her, and held her tightly.
She clung to him, sobbing, her face hidden against him, feeling his arms close about her; her blood warming to fever heat because of contact with his hard, masculine body; until suddenly Don bent his head and kissed her hard, and she looked up at him, flushed and tearful.
"Well?" asked Don softly. "Shall we hop into the car and drive to the state line...?"
She clung to him, pressing her body hard against him, drawing his head down until his mouth was against her warm, soft lips. Her heart was beating wildly, like a newly caged bird against the cage of satin-smooth soft white flesh.
"Let's don't go anywhere-tonight! It's-wonderful here-and oh, Don I'm so damned crazy about you-take me, Don-take me-I'm mad about you!"
His hands shook and the frail chiffon of her gown made a little whispering gasp as it fell to the floor and her body, an exquisite rose-ivory statue, was his for the taking, exulting in the giving; rejoicing to accept within itself the storm and fury and burning demand of his ardor....
Shortly before dawn, she stirred a little and kissing his cheek that was pressed hard against her as she made an attempt to rise, she said reluctantly, "It's hell, honey-but I've got to get into the house before they miss me-or one of the servants sees me sneaking in like this."
Jealously he drew her close again.
"Now do you understand why I want to marry you?" he demanded.
"I understand why I want to marry you-to think of being together like this any time we want to be-without having to sneak and hide-I want to have you, but I want to wake up with you, too, and have breakfast in bed with you-dinner and supper and lunch, too, I guess!" she confessed impulsively.
Don laughed at that and released her, and lay propped against pillows watching her as she stepped into her clothes.
She laughed at him, as she settled the dress about her voluptuous body and drew up the zipper under the arm.
He got up then and drew her close and hard against him and pressed his cheek against her hair.
"I'll promise you something, Don, if you want me to," she offered almost shyly.
"Such as what, for instance?" he asked, almost warily.
"Such as that-I won't ever two-time you, darling," she said warmly, eagerly, clinging to him passionately. "I'll never let another man touch me, I swear it. Because from this minute on, darling-no other man could possibly mean anything to me-not ever!"
He grinned at her tautly, and put her a little away from him, as though to deny the rising again of the tide that threatened to engulf them both again.
"Thanks, precious-but I won't hold you to that...."
"You must, because it's true-I swear it!" she insisted, He kissed her lightly, walked her to the door, and through it and into the thick darkness of the hour before dawn.
"We'll go into that at our next meeting, sweet," he promised, and gave a small chuckle. "Later-we'll discuss it later!"
"But it's a promise...."
"Sure it is, and I know you mean it-now."
"I mean it for always...."
"Always is a long time, angel face...."
"Not long enough for me to ever get tired of being loved by you-not long enough for me to ever want anybody else as I want you-hell, don't you understand, you-you big goon?" She was a little cross now that he would not accept her simple assurance of her devotion. "I love you...."
He laughed softly, kissed her lightly and turned her around to face the house, glimmering through the darkness.
"Scoot along, honey, and get inside before the servants start stirring up a scandal. I'll see you at lunch. And we'll announce the glad tidings to anybody who happens to be present!"
She caught her breath in sharp delight.
"We will?" she marvelled, afraid to believe that he was really in earnest about wanting to marry her, yet knowing if he himself meant to announce their engagement, publicly, at the Leslie's luncheon table, he would not be able to withdraw from it later.
"Well, sure!" said Don, and even in the darkness she sensed his little grin, and the pressure of his hands on her shoulders tightened a little. "You don't think I'm going to hold back on the public announcement that I've staked out a claim on you, do you? We're going to be married, baby-and right soon, believe me!"
"Oh, Don!" she whispered, awed, incredulous, delighted beyond everything she had ever dreamed or hoped.
"Run along now," said Don, and gave her a gentle push and a light, loving spank as she turned and vanished down the dark path.
With her heart singing within her, Gayle hurried across the path and through the door that had been left open for her and for Sue. Fortunately, Sue had not locked it behind her, and Gayle slid through it, turned the key noiselessly in the lock and held her breath as she unstrapped her slippers, stepped out of them and carrying them in her hand crept soundlessly up the stairs and to her own room. She scarcely dared to breathe normally until the door had eased shut behind her and she was safe in her own room.
She stood for a long moment, breathless, wide-eyed, hugging herself for joy, her body still throbbing exultantly.
Suddenly she laughed a small, secret laugh. She, Gayle Barker, the "shameless hussy" of Harlan's bitter description, was engaged to be married! Just like simple-minded little saps-Sue, for instance. And she was all dewy-eyed and ecstatic at the prospect!
She had not, since her early girlhood ever seriously contemplated marriage. The men of her world then had been men for whom she would have been an unpaid drudge; bearing their squalling brats; washing their dirty overalls; scrubbing and cleaning some foul little dingy tenement flat; going without things so "the kids" could have more food, less ragged clothes. Her viewpoint on marriage had been bitterly realistic in those days. And after she had stepped irrevocably across the border line between virginity and promiscuity she had been too sensible to even think that she could marry any man. But now-she was going to marry Don!
It was a dazzling prospect and suddenly she had a strange and unaccustomed moment of deep humility.
"I'll be a good wife," she promised herself-and Don! "I'll take such good care of you, darling-I wouldn't mind cooking and scrubbing and having kids-for you!"
And then she grinned wryly. Remembering that Don was a rich man and there would be servants to do the cooking and scrubbing and cleaning; and take care of the brats! She could endure the more or less minor discomfort of bearing them, surrounded by all the luxury and comfort that Don's wealth could provide.
"But I won't ever let another man so much as touch me, darling-I won't, I won't!" she promised unsteadily, and the very thought of another man's passion made her a little sick. And that frightened her a little. She had never minded men making love to her, because she had set her price high; and if a man was willing to pay it-so what? It was better paid and a damned sight easier than standing on her feet behind a store counter, which was about all she could have hoped for if it had not been for her realistic attitude towards her lush beauty.
She went to bed at last, to lay wide-eyed and hug herself, caressing the loveliness of her own body that was, at long last, bringing her a harvest far more rich and wonderful than anything she had ever dared dream she might achieve.