Fit for a King (26 page)

206

Diana
Palmer

Fit for a
King

207

"For God's sake, will you
listen to me?" he de
manded, oblivious
to the curious stares they were get
ting as they faced each other.

"No."
She laced the single word with mocking contempt, and her blue eyes dared him to
make her
change her mind.

He let go
of his temper with a word that turned her ears red, and she walked away without
looking back.
He took off his hat and slammed it to the floor,
damned it to hell, damned her
with it and stomped back down the concourse. Let her go. What did he care? She
didn't love him—she'd said so. It was just
a
"cheap little roll in the hay." His dark eyes got
darker, and his pride felt lacerated at her
careless ref
erence to the most
beautiful experience of his entire
life.

Still
cursing, he came home hatless and ran head-
on into Margaret, who
looked like an entire invading army about to launch an attack. "So you ran
her off, did you?" Margaret glared at him. "Congratulations. The
first woman who ever cared anything about you
and not your money,
and you get rid of her. I don't
know what's come over you. And here's Bobby's
wife, and—"

"Shut
up!" King threw at her, his eyes dangerous.

"Jackass!"
she tossed off. "You don't cow me!
Maybe Bess is scared
stiff of you, but I ain't!"

He glared
back at her. "What do you mean, scared
stiff of me?"

“She took
off upstairs the minute she saw you walk
in the door. And she
never once opened her mouth at
the breakfast table when you and Elissa got
into it."
She harrumphed. "That poor little thing's got no
spirit at
all. Not like Elissa. You'd have Bess crawling
in a month's time, if she didn't cut and
run first. Or
don't you remember what a hell
of a mean temper
her father had when
he drank? Of course, you can control yours, most of the time, but that child is
car
rying deep scars. A man like you
is the last thing she
needs!"

As if he
hadn't realized that already, he thought
furiously. Elissa was
gone, and he felt sick, and here
was Margaret, giving him hell. He glared at
his house
keeper with black frustration.

"And where's your hat?" she demanded.

"At the airport," he retorted. "Catching
mice."

"Your
hat
probably could," she muttered. "It
would have to be
pretty damned mean to sit on you!"

He sat down with a
cup of black coffee, which he
wished were whiskey. He felt empty and hollow
and
cold. Bess was still upstairs, and he thought about
what Margaret had said. Perhaps
Bess was afraid of
his temper, he thought
idly. But Elissa wasn't, he re
called
with a faint smile. She was more than equal to
his angry outbursts, most of the time. She was equal
to him in other ways, too. He closed his eyes and
saw
her, felt her, as she was that
night, her body lifting to

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Palmer

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209

his, her eyes wild
and passionate, moaning as he held
her to him, crying out his name in
aching fulfillment.

He got
up, his body on fire. Bess paused at the
doorway, hesitating.
He glanced at her. She was blond
and beautiful, but when he looked at her, he
saw only
Elissa's laughing blue eyes and black hair.

"Well?" he asked curtly.

She
hesitated. "Are you angry with me?" she
asked.

The
harshness left his face. She was a child, after
all, in so many ways.
He went to her, taking her
gently by the shoulders, smiling.

"No, of course
I'm not," he said gently. "I
couldn't stop Elissa. She thinks I’m out
of my mind
over you and that you're leaving
Bobby to marry me.
I couldn't make
her listen, and I'm frustrated, that's
all."

"It's
my fault, isn't it?" she asked, searching his
eyes. "I'm sorry. I was so lonely.
And you took me
places and talked to me and
even listened," she added
with a wistful smile. "I guess I got
drunk on atten
tion. But I'm sorry if I've
messed up your life."

"Don't
worry. I'll sort it all out somehow," he
said.

She stared
at his shirtfront. "Elissa loves you,
doesn't she?"

"I thought she did,"
he replied quietly. "Now I'm
not
sure."

She
looked up again, smiling at him. "I liked her.
She isn't the least
bit afraid of you. She bites back."

He laughed. "Yes. She
gives as good as she gets. That's one of the things I like best about
her." He
searched her face. "Do
you really want a divorce?"

She sighed.
"No," she said finally. "I love the
stupid man to
distraction. If only he'd wake up and
realize that I never married him for
money. I wanted
him
—I still do—and he's too busy making money
to
notice."

"Then
why," he asked slowly, "don't you tell
him?"

She blinked. "Tell him...that?"

"Of course."

She shifted restlessly. "Well..."

"Chicken," he taunted, his dark eyes sparkling.

She burst
out laughing. "All right. Why not?
Things can't get any
worse, can they?"

He took her
arm. "Where there's life, there's
hope," he muttered. He was still
wondering how to
deal with Elissa's defection.
She'd tried to reduce
what they did
together to something sordid and
wrong,
and he wished he'd gone about things in a
more conventional way. He should have picked her
up and carried her off to a minister. Now she was
determined not to care about him anymore, was de
termined to put him out of her life. Did she still think
he wanted Bess? How could she be so crazy?

He
followed Bess out the door, frowning fiercely.

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Diana Palmer

He'd have
to
give her some time to cool off, to
figure
out that they couldn't live without each other, that
they
needed each other. And knowing Elissa, she'd
have to come to those
conclusions her own way in
her own sweet time.

Chapter
Eleven

Elissa didn't go home
to her parents. She wasn't
quite ready to face them just yet. Instead,
she boarded
the next flight to Jamaica. Since King was going to
be busy
with Bess now, it looked like the best time to tie up a few loose ends.

She went to his villa first and
got Warchief, then
left without a backward
glance. She wasn't ever going
to see
the villa again. She'd made plans.

Warchief
made eyes at her and flapped his wings
while she packed. She
couldn't accomplish every
thing in one day, so she took her time. There were
forms to fill out to allow her to take Warchief
back
to the States, and there was the
real-estate agent to
see. She was
going to put the cottage up for sale.
After
what had happened, she never wanted to come to Jamaica again.

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King

213

It was
like leaving home, because she'd grown to
love it, but she'd have to find someplace
else for a
second home. Especially since
pregnancy was a real
possibility. She
still hadn't decided what to tell her
parents.
She just couldn't bear telling them the truth.

She stayed in Jamaica for three days.
Then, with
the necessary forms filled out,
she took Warchief to the airport in a sturdy pet carrier and left the island
behind. Warchief was the one reminder of the past
that she couldn't bear to give up.

Hours
later, she pulled up in front of her parents'
home. Her father was
busy in his study, working on
his sermon, which he always started on
Fridays. Her
mother
was in the kitchen, and her head jerked up when she saw what Elissa was
carrying.

"Oh,
no!" Tina wailed. "It's the green mosquito!"

"Now,
now," Elissa said gently. "He grows on
you."

"That's what I'm afraid
of," Tina muttered, nibbling her lip and frowning.

Elissa
set his carrier on a chair. Warchief took one
look at Tina and
began to whoop and blaze his eyes and make cute little parrot noises.

"I
love you!" he cried. "Cute, you're cute!" He
gave a wolf whistle, and Tina,
who'd never seen a parrot except in exotic pet shops, was charmed.

She
dropped to her knees and peeked into the car
rier. Warchief
wolf-whistled again and blazed his
eyes, and Tina laughed.

"You
gorgeous bird," she enthused. "I'd love to
hug you."

"I
wouldn't," Elissa murmured dryly. "He gets
excited when he's
close to people. You could lose an
ear, a nose—"

"I
get the idea," Tina chuckled and rose. "What
about his cage?"

"It's outside, in the car."

Tina
looked out the window. "How did you
squeeze it into that
subcompact rental?" she asked.

"With
great difficulty," came the reply. "But I did."

Tina
cocked her head and stared at Elissa. "Wait
a minute. He was in
Jamaica, wasn't he?" she asked,
nodding toward the parrot. "So
how is it that he's
with you, when you were in Oklahoma? And where's
Kingston?"

"This
is going to be an interesting story," Elissa
said. "So do you
mind if I get the things out of the
car and change clothes? You can make coffee, and
then we'll talk."

Tina sighed. "Uh-oh."

Elissa nodded. "That's one way of putting it."

"I'm sorry, darling."

"It's just as well I found
out now," Elissa replied,
looking and
sounding worlds more mature than she
had when she'd left. "I might
have married him and
ended up ruining his
life."

"He asked you to marry him?" Tina asked.

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Palmer

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Elissa
nodded. "He gave me a ring," she said,
smiling at the memory
of the fragile thing. Then she
burst into tears. "Oh, Mama, I had to give it back,"
she wailed, going into the taller woman's
outstretched
arms. "He's in love with his sister-in-law, and she's
getting a divorce, and he only found out after he'd
given me the ring. I had to let him go—don't you
see? He'd have hated me for tying him down!"

Through all that muddled speech
one thing was
clear: that Elissa loved her
man desperately and had
given him up for love of him. Mrs. Dean smiled.
"There, there, darling," she cooed,
"you did the right
thing. Loving isn't
loving unless you have the
strength to
let go when you have to."

"I'm so miserable,"
she said brokenly. "I went to
Jamaica
and arranged to sell the cottage and got War-
chief. Is it all right if I stay here for a while?"

"Honey,
of course," Tina said, shocked. "Why
wouldn't it be? This
is your home."

Elissa
lifted her tear-stained face to her mother's.
She wanted to tell
all, but she didn't know if she
could bear to. Her eyes filled with new tears.

Tina Dean
brushed the damp hair from her daugh
ter's eyes. "I think this would
be a very good time
for you to have a talk with your father," she said
with a smile. "Do you know the old saying that you never
really
know people until you're in trouble? Well, you're about to get an education in
human frailty.
Come on."

Elissa
puzzled over that on the way to the study, where her father was sitting behind
a desk, glaring at
a
legal pad and frowning.

"Look
who's home," Tina said brightly, exchang
ing a pointed look with her husband.

"Hello,
my darling." Her father beamed. "Home
for a visit?"

"Maybe
to stay awhile," she said. And then she
burst into tears again.

"Uh-oh."
Mr. Dean sighed and glanced at his wife.
"Trouble in
paradise, I guess?"

Tina
nodded. "I thought it might help if you told
her about that young
minister and the unmarried cou
ple. You know the one?"

He smiled, reminiscing.
"Oh, I do indeed. Make
some coffee,
will you, dear?"

"I'll do that little
thing." She went out and closed
the
door.

Mr. Dean
came around the desk to hug his daughter
and deposit her in
an easy chair. He perched himself
on the edge of his desk and studied her wan, tear-stained
face. And then he smiled warmly.

"Elissa,
I want to tell you about a young man I knew, oh, about twenty-five years
ago," he began.
"He was a cocky young brute, just
twenty-three at
the time. He was good with his fists and not very
concerned with the world or even his own future. He
came back from
Vietnam half out of his mind on