Sins of Omission (14 page)

Bebe stared into the clearest, grayest eyes she'd ever seen. His jaw, she thought, looked as though it were chiseled from quarry stone. “Wh-what was the question again?”

“I asked you if you'd ever seen a cow. Those four-legged animals are cows the farmer is leading across the road. They give milk.” He thought at that moment that she looked like a frightened bird fresh from its nest instead of the hellcat who had stepped into the car. What could she possibly be frightened of, he wondered.

“No…I me an yes, in…California,” Bebe stammered.

Reuben smiled, a winsome, boyish smile that sent chills up Bebe's arms. “Those are California cows…these are French cows.”

Mickey fidgeted on her seat. This exchange of conversation was unexpected. Eye contact between a male and a female was all-important, and she wasn't imagining the heightened awareness the two had of each other. Something was slipping away from her, something she couldn't grasp. There was friction developing between the two young people, and if there was one thing she didn't want, it was to be placed in the role of peacemaker. That would only call attention to her age, and she would come out the loser. God, why did this child have to come here now, when things were so perfect? Why couldn't she have waited until later to visit France? Mickey sighed. It was her own fault: she could have said no to Sol. Now there was nothing any of them could do but be hospitable to the girl.

The rest of the trip was made in silence. When the powerful car drove through the village, Bebe gasped. Reuben smiled. “This is our closest town. I don't imagine this quaint village is anything like Hollywood, but it's all we have to offer. You will come to love it as we do.” Reuben smirked. The girl's gasp had been one of horror—not pleasure. In a pig's eye she would come to love it. “You'll get to meet the entire village at Christmas. We're looking forward to it. It will be a pleasant break from lessons.” A malicious smile tugged at his lips when he heard her mutter, “Bastard!” under her breath.

“Not really.” Daniel grinned. “He's my best friend and a hell of a nice guy. You have to get to know Reuben; he doesn't make friends easily.”

Bebe glared at him. “You are, of course, entitled to your opinion. I think he's a shmuck.”

“What's a shmuck?” Daniel asked.

Reuben's eyesight might have been poor, but there was nothing wrong with his hearing, even if Daniel was keeping his voice down. “A shmuck is someone to be pitied or despised. At least she didn't call me a shlemiel. They're Yiddish words, Daniel. Unflattering, to say the least, but we can mark them up to Miss Rosen's fatigue.” Daniel found himself grinning. Miss Rosen's stay was going to be anything but dull.

“We're home,
chérie.
This,” Mickey said, waving her hands about, “is my château. Your father fell in love with it when he was here many years ago. He had to drag your mother away; she wanted to stay forever.”

It was on the tip of Bebe's tongue to say that wouldn't happen to her. She'd cut out of this place the first chance she got. And go where? she thought sourly. She'd imagined Christmas would be spent in Paris; Sol had told her Mickey always spent Christmas in Paris. Just another lie from the old man so she would do what he wanted.

Reuben held the door for Bebe as she climbed out. He bowed gallantly, a wicked grin on his face, and she suppressed the urge to kick him. “What about my trunks?” she asked sweetly.

“What about them?”

“Who's going to bring them up to my room?”

Reuben leaned against the car. “It's like this, Miss Bebe. Daniel has a bad shoulder. I have a bad leg. Your trunks weigh tons. What I suggest is you unpack in the barn and carry your things upstairs. We can all help.”

“My father said you had servants!” Bebe whined to Mickey.

“At one time I did, and then the war came. Now I have only a cook and a housekeeper.”

Reuben felt his anger rise in defense of Mickey and struggled to keep his tone civil and even. “We all pitch in here. We hope you'll do the same. What would you like to do first? See your room, freshen up and then take the contents of your trunks upstairs, or vice versa?”

“But it will take at least a hundred trips!” Bebe cried.

“Not that many,
chérie,
if we all help. Come along and I'll show you to your room.” Bebe glared at Reuben but followed her aunt meekly.

“Jesus, Reuben, what was that all about?” Daniel demanded when the women were out of earshot.

“Mickey's been upset about Bebe's arrival. Couldn't you tell? That girl is a spoiled brat, Daniel. I don't want her taking advantage of Mickey. Do you?” he demanded.

“Hell no. Look, maybe she's just scared. She's new to France, and I bet she's bone-tired from the crossing and then the train ride. Maybe you should go easy on her, she is just a kid.”

“That one tired!” Reuben guffawed. “She's not tired, she's plain old nasty. She's going to be trouble, and I can see now why Mickey was so—” Reuben stopped himself from saying “afraid,” even though he believed it to be true. “So worried.”

“She's pretty,” Daniel said shyly.

“No. Daniel, she's beautiful. When Mickey was her age I bet she looked just like her except her hair is dark. They have the same high cheekbones and the same straight nose. The only thing is, I don't think Mickey was ever like Bebe. And she was already married at that age. I don't like her,” Reuben said. “And for some ungodly reason she brings out the worst in me.”

“First impressions aren't always sound, you should know that. All I'm saying is to give the girl a chance.”

“And all I'm saying to you is keep your hands off her. She's trouble.” Reuben could see Daniel bristling. He'd never given orders before. “She'd chew you up and spit you out in two minutes. I hope you listen.” He placed a gentle hand on Daniel's shoulder to take the sting out of his words. “Come on, we can at least get started by carrying in some of these hatboxes.”

No sooner had the front door closed behind them than they heard Bebe shout from upstairs. “Only one bathroom? You mean we all have to share it, to take turns?”

They were just in time to see Mickey throw her hands in the air and stalk to her room. “I'm going to change my clothes and I'll be down to help shortly,” she called over her shoulder.

“Don't bother, we'll take care of it…get some rest,” Reuben said. He and Daniel dumped the hatboxes in the middle of Bebe's room. “Come on, we're not doing it all.” Reuben told her sourly. “They're your trunks.”

Bebe turned to follow Reuben and almost fell. He swung around, grabbed her, and carried her to the bed, where he dumped her in a heap. “It might be a good idea to take off those shoes. You'll kill yourself on the stones and gravel.” He waited a moment until the outrage on her face had faded. She had nice legs, that much he noticed, and she smelled rather good, flowery and sweet. When she made no move to take off the bright red heels, he left to ask Mickey for a pair of serviceable shoes Bebe could wear temporarily. He handed them to the girl, who contemplated them with disgust.

“These are at least three sizes too big. Whose are they?” she demanded. “And they're the ugliest things I've ever seen.”

“They'll serve the purpose for the moment,” Reuben snapped. “You'd do well to pay attention to the way a real lady dresses—and I'm talking about your aunt. If you want to pretend to be grown-up, then behave like a grown-up.”

“Just how old are
you?
” Bebe demanded sarcastically.

“I'm four years older than you. I'll be twenty-one in another month. Is there anything else you want to know?”

“Yes,” Bebe sneered. “How does it feel to be twenty years old and a gigolo?” The minute the words were out of her mouth she was sorry.

“What did you say?” Reuben said through clenched teeth.

“No-nothing. I'm sorry,” Bebe muttered. God, if she'd been home and said the same thing to one of her brother Eli's friends, she'd be missing her front teeth and have two black eyes. “I said I was sorry. Let's just drop it.”

“You ever say that to me again, you'll regret it,” Reuben said coldly.

Daniel stared at them, his mouth dropping in surprise. Something fluttered in his chest. You didn't
ever
cross Reuben Tarz.

Twelve trips later, Reuben was about to close the barn door when Bebe approached him, hands on hips, lips pulled back angrily. “What about my trunks? You aren't going to leave them here, are you? They'll smell and get all black and moldy.”

“As a matter of fact, I am leaving them here. If you want to carry them to the house and up that narrow stairway, then do it. Nothing will happen to your trunks here.” The urge to slap this petulant brat was so strong, Reuben had to clench his fists to keep from doing just that.

“You…you…you're hateful!” Bebe cried. “How can my aunt stand you? She doesn't look desperate for companionship. My father—”

“Your father has nothing to do with this conversation, so let's leave him out of it. I'd like to close the barn door if you don't mind.” What he really wanted to do was put his hands around her neck and strangle her.

Bebe felt tears sting her eyes. She wanted to reach out to the young man with the cold eyes and say she was sorry; they got off to a bad start and…it was all her fault. And she would have said those things if Reuben hadn't reached out to take her arm and lead her from the shadowy barn. She completely misread his intention, thinking he was going to strike her.

“Take your hands off me! When I want to be manhandled, it won't be by someone like you.” She felt a second prick of fear when Reuben turned to her, back stiff and gray eyes dark with anger. “You should do something about that temper of yours,” she blurted out, “before it explodes and hurts the people around you.”

Reuben turned and began to walk away.

“You've just met me and already you hate me,” Bebe yelled after him. “I've seen you fighting with yourself not to pound away at me. I'm tired, I'm hungry, and I need a bath. I'd like to call a truce.”

An alien sound escaped Reuben's lips, but he kept on walking.

Bebe was right behind him. “Did you hear what I said? What's wrong with you? You're still angry, and that's stupid. You're not grown-up at all, because if you were, you'd be able to handle any situation, and that includes this one. You're a boy trying to act like a man and probably fucking my aunt!”

Reuben pulled up short, and Bebe slammed against his back. She tried to back away, but he reached for her. Somewhere in the back of his mind he was aware of her slender shoulders, her sweet scent. But overpowering everything was an anger so intense that he actually felt the beginning of an erection. It stunned him. “You,” he said slowly, enunciating each word carefully, “disgust me. And if you were the last woman on earth, I wouldn't fuck you. The man hasn't been born who would want anything to do with you.” With that, he gathered every ounce of strength he could muster to drop his hands and stalk back to the house.

Bebe took off the oversize shoes and raced after him. “If you think you're getting the last word, you're mistaken. I find you incredibly arrogant and obnoxious, and my aunt must be insane to have anything to do with you. You're nasty, you're inconsiderate, and you are so hateful you make me want to puke.” She made a gagging sound in her throat. “Furthermore, I wouldn't let you touch me if you got down on your knees and begged me.
You,
Reuben Tarz, disgust
me!
”

She gave Reuben a shove that sent him sprawling in the dirt and then fled to the house, certain he would follow and beat the living daylights out of her. She was sobbing as she gathered her things together for the bathroom, and it wasn't until the door was locked behind her that she felt safe.

Tears streamed down her cheeks. What was wrong with her? Why was she always doing the wrong thing at the wrong time? Maybe she deserved Reuben's words in some way. She knew better, and still she'd gone ahead and baited him. Why couldn't she ever keep her mouth shut? Obviously Reuben had a vicious temper and knew how to be as nasty as she. But she'd also seen a glimmer of something in his eyes, something she'd seen in other young men's eyes, back in California: arousal.

“Lights! Camera! Action! Cut!” she muttered, her tearful face turning thoughtful. She stepped into the hot tub. Later she would think about her next performance, but not until she was sure where she'd gone wrong in the barn.

A warm bath always made everything right. Bebe hummed the words to a popular song as she lathered herself. When she was soaped from head to toe, she craned her neck to examine herself in the long pier glass across from the tub. If I truly make up my mind to go after you, Reuben Tarz, you aren't going to have a prayer of escaping me.
If
I make up my mind…

 

Reuben stormed his way into the house, slamming the door behind him so hard the handle rattled. What in the hell was happening to him? How could one young girl upset his life like this? He'd reacted to her instead of ignoring her as he'd promised himself he would. He'd been so happy—they'd all been happy. Until today. Perhaps he was too sensitive, too protective of Mickey. But Mickey was just too goddamned important to him, and no little snot from California was going to interfere.

Once in his room, Reuben could feel the tension ease between his shoulder blades. His heart stopped its furious thudding, and the pounding in his head gave way to a dull ache he could live with. He knew if he lay down and closed his eyes for fifteen minutes, he'd be a fit dinner companion who could laugh and smile and carry on a decent conversation.

But willing his mind to blankness was impossible, Reuben decided. His thoughts were on Bebe Rosen, a serpent in his Garden of Eden. Then he remembered his erection. Angrily he beat his fists into the plump pillow. This was only the first day of her visit and already he was like a wild dog trying to catch its tail.