For All of Her Life (32 page)

He held her, stroking her hair. “You know I care for you...”

She let out a wretched sob again. “But you don’t love me.”

“Tara—”

“I really love you, Jordan!” she said, pulling away slightly to stare up into his eyes. “What is going on here?” she whispered.

He felt awful. He shook his head. “Tara—”

“You can’t possibly prefer her to me! She’s—she’s nearly fifteen years older. She isn’t...”

“You?” he queried, the edge softening on his guilt. He wasn’t sure whether Tara was really so desperately in love with him or whether she simply couldn’t bear the possibility that she wasn’t more alluring than a woman a decade older.

“I’m only thirty,” she reminded him, “and I work my tail to the bone for you. There isn’t an ounce of cellulite on me.”

“No, there isn’t. But, darling, you don’t work your tail to the bone for me, you do so for your career, which is a far better thing.”

“You’re not making any sense, Jordan.”

“Yes, I am, Tara,” he said wearily. “You should always want to be what you want to be for yourself and no one else. It’s good to share achievements, desires, dreams—and tragedies—but love shouldn’t make you want to be anything you don’t want to be for yourself. You’re missing just what that emotion is all about. It isn’t about absolute perfection or beauty. It’s in a smile, the sound of laughter. Shared memories. Beliefs. Passions, concerns—”

“You
are
in love with her still, you bastard!” Tara charged him, slamming a fist against his chest.

“I never said that.”

“How could you be in love with her, you idiot? I try to give you everything!”

He circled his fingers around her wrists, holding her still. A cavalcade of emotions swept through him, one after the other. In her way, she was in love with him. In his way, he cared for her. She’d been with him, she’d been fun, she’d made him laugh. In good times. When threatened, she was selfish, conceited, and petulant. He hadn’t been much better himself. He’d let jealousy turn him into someone harsh and cold.

What would he be thinking and feeling if he thought Kathy was sharing his bedroom with her friend? He’d probably be clinging to Tara like a drowning man grasping a raft.

Why was he so convinced Kathy had cooled things since she’d come here?

And did it matter? He did want to sleep with his ex-wife. He was still in love with her. He had never fallen out of love with her.

Maybe that didn’t matter either. In another seven days, Kathy would most probably walk away again.

He’d better pray that she was able to do it! If he thought about the threat to her, it was chilling.

“Tara, if you’re hurt, I’m very sorry. If you’re miserable here, you can leave—”

“Oh, my God! You’re throwing me out.”

“Of course not,” he said impatiently, “I’d never do that.”

“Maybe you do love me,” she whispered suddenly. “You did until you started feeling responsible again. And those wretched children of yours—”

“Watch it!”

“Oh, God, I’m sorry. The girls aren’t wretched—just to me,” she muttered bitterly.

“Tara...”

“Don’t worry. I don’t know what she’s done to you, but no matter what, I’m going to stand by your side. I’ll be here. I won’t give you up—or give up on you. You need me. Much more than you know!”

She encircled his neck with her arms, pressing her body sinuously against his. Her fingers moved through his hair, massaging the back of his skull.

He was about to pull away, but she suddenly spoke so softly that something tugged at his heart.

“I love you, Jordan.”

“Tara, you’re very beautiful, you’ve the entire the world in your hands and—”

She kissed him, swallowing his words. She was, and always had been, a practiced lover. She could seduce and sway. He had loved her in his way; he didn’t want to hurt her. Her kiss was coercive, evocative.

For a moment, the bitterness of the past settled over his shoulders. Kathy had left him. Called it quits. He had told himself then as he told himself now that he wasn’t going to spend his days pining after a woman who didn’t want him anymore. Life went on. And there was solace. Solace such as he held now.

Yet in the midst of both bitterness and seduction, he opened his eyes, and looked out the window. Kathy was alone—except for Larry Haley. Larry’s hands were on her shoulders.

He clasped Tara, lifting her out of his way in a single, swift motion. “Excuse me,” he told her distractedly.

“Excuse me?” she whispered indignantly. “Jordan Treveryan, there is no damned excuse!”

But he had already started across the room to the front door, the closest route to the pool.

“Tara, Kathy was threatened at knife point. I have to keep an eye on her.”

“Oh!” Tara sighed. “Of course you do!” she added sweetly, a change in her attitude. Real? Feigned? She only followed him halfway out. “I’ll be here, Jordan. I love you. I’ll be patient—and understanding.”

Oh, God.

But it didn’t matter. As long as he reached Kathy.

If they couldn’t both stay alive, none of the rest of it mattered!

“The drugs!” Larry said.

“Drugs?” Kathy squeaked out in lieu of a scream. Oh, Lord. He wasn’t admitting to murder. At least, she didn’t think so.

“I don’t believe I’m doing this, saying this. It’s almost as if I’ve been dying to confess to someone. I wish I would have done so back then. I was the one with the drugs, Kathy. God, I didn’t want anyone to know when we were caught with them. I was terrified that Jordan would find out. I let Keith take the heat for it because, hell, he had talent. I didn’t. I was hanging on.”

“What?”

Miserably, Larry nodded.

“Don’t you remember? The last real big blowout when Keith was still alive was over the drugs found with the group’s equipment when we were just coming back into the United States. Jordan all but went for Keith’s throat. Keith denied it all. Remember?”

Kathy nodded painfully. “Yes, of course, I do.”

“I had to tell you. But”—he paused—“I don’t think I’m ready to tell Jordan yet. Give me time, huh?”

She frowned, wondering why he had suddenly started speaking so hastily. Then she glanced up to see that Jordan was headed back around the pool in their direction.

“Kathy, please, be my champion, like you were Keith’s.”

“I wasn’t anyone’s champion, I tried to be a peacekeeper, that’s all. We were good when we were together. We fell apart because we all had a habit of acting like children.”

“Keep my secret for now?”

“Why did you feel compelled to tell me this now?” Kathy demanded with exasperation. Did he have other little “secrets” that he wasn’t sharing with her? And how could she not tell Jordan, with everything else that was going on.

Jordan had almost reached them. If Larry had been about to attempt a drowning, at least Jordan had made it before paramedics. But then, she had been foolish to be so afraid. If Larry Haley had been about to confess murder and then kill her, he’d probably not have done so here. She’d felt alone at the pool, but she was visible from both the main and guest houses. She stared at Larry hard. “Tell me,” she demanded quickly. “Does anyone else know your secret?”

He frowned. “What?”

“I said—”

“Kathy, shh!”

He either hadn’t understood her question, or had pretended he didn’t. He was rising, smiling as Jordan reached them. “You know, this is great. I haven’t had so much fun since I filmed mating chimps in the wilds of Africa. Seriously, thanks for having us. I hope this get-together accomplishes all that you wanted it to.”

“Yeah, I hope so too,” Jordan said dryly.

“Which is?” Larry asked bluntly.

Jordan arched a brow to him, then shrugged. “With the movie and all the interest, I thought it was time we all got back together.”

“We need to give the movie a good ending, huh?”

“We’re going to benefit the burn center,” Kathy reminded him.

He smiled ruefully, then stared straight at her. “He died from the smoke, you know. He never knew what hit him. There were probably benefits to being a druggie for Keith.”

“How can you say that?” Kathy demanded. “He’d have put out the fire or run away from it if he hadn’t been wasted!”

“Well, that’s true, too,” Larry admitted. He shivered. “But at least he didn’t feel it. God, I can’t think of a worse way to die. You know what? I think I’m going to call it quits for tonight. You did say you wanted to start practicing early tomorrow morning, right?”

“Ten o’clock,” Jordan agreed.

“’Night, then. Let’s hope we don’t all stink. Well, you won’t. And Miles won’t. Shelley will probably be okay. I’ll be as rusty as an old door handle, and Derrick will surely squeak a little. How about you, Kathy?”

“I’ll be an old door handle, too.”

“No recent performances?”

“Only in my shower.”

Larry grinned. “Who’s taking the drums?”

“Miles.”

“Ah!” Larry said thoughtfully. “Well, we’ll see, huh?”

“We’ll see.”

He grinned, waved, and left the two of them at the pool. Kathy was still sitting. Jordan came down beside her, staring at her anxiously. “What the hell was going on?”

She returned his stare, lifting a brow, fighting an inward battle. She should tell him what Larry had said to her. But Larry had said he wanted to tell Jordan in his own time. Didn’t she owe him that much?

Or did she?

She hadn’t asked for any confessions from him! Hadn’t wanted any.

And far too recently she’d been brutally held in an alley, a knife at her throat.

“Kathy?”

She lowered her eyes. Larry might be a murderer. Then again, he might not.

She had to give him a little time.

“I think he’s nervous,” she said.

“What?”

Kathy shrugged and offered him a rueful half-smile. “Well, you kept working on your own after the band split up. I found work I liked better. Larry—”

“Larry has become a very successful film maker,” Jordan said somewhat gruffly.

Kathy looked at him curiously. He was staring out over the water of the pool.

“He might be a successful film maker, but he loved being a rock musician more,” she said softly, then realized that Jordan knew it. And deep inside, he might be feeling just a little bit guilty because his decision to end the group had influenced the lives of those who had been in it with him.

“Maybe,” he agreed huskily. Then he turned his sharp green stare on her again. “But the way he was looking at you scared the hell out of me for a minute there. And he had his hands on your shoulders...”

“He’s excitable, you know that.”

Jordan cocked his head. “Think you know who was whispering in the bathroom yet?”

She shrugged, shaking her head.

“Kathy,” he told her sternly, “don’t forget what happened last night! This is a serious situation.”

“I’m not forgetting anything. I just...”

“What?”

She hesitated, forming her words haltingly. “I don’t know if this makes any sense or not, but, well... Larry has been a sleazeball upon occasion—maybe even the sleazeball of the Western world—but that’s just about it.”

“Being sleazy exonerates him?” Jordan demanded skeptically.

She shook her head impatiently. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

“You’re just a soft touch,” he told her.

She shrugged uncomfortably. Was she? Falling for both Larry’s confession and his plea?

But then, wasn’t her falling for Jordan just the same?

She leapt to her feet, suddenly yawning. “I guess I’m a little tired, too. Considering that I’m probably the rustiest one of all, I’d best get some sleep since we start practicing tomorrow.”

She was afraid for a minute that he’d stand up beside her, try to waylay her. He didn’t. He continued to stare broodingly at the aqua water of the pool.

“Good night,” she told him.

He nodded, not looking up.

Kathy turned around and walked from the patio to the house. She turned back. He was still staring at the water. She walked on up to her room without seeing anyone else, closed the door behind her, locking it, and then sighed and went in to shower, still thinking about what Larry had said to her. Did the fact that he was such a sleazeball mean he wasn’t a murderer. Larry could be slick, sly—he had let Keith take the blame for his illegal activities.

She dried herself vigorously when she stepped from the shower, her mind a jumble of nerve-racking thoughts. She slipped into a cool satin nightgown, pacing the room, remembering the whispered conversation she had overheard. If she hadn’t been distracted by her daughter...

But she had—she’d nearly jumped out of her skin at hearing that cry. Was she a fool for not telling Jordan what Larry had said to her?

Idiot! she chastised herself. After all, with no effort, she could recall exactly what it had felt like to have the sharp blade of a knife against her throat.

She groaned out loud, turned out her light, and slipped into bed, determined to sleep. But she tossed and turned.

So much for determination.

Exhaustion finally began to creep over her. She wasn’t really sleeping, but she dozed.

Then she... woke.

Prickles seemed to dance upon her skin, and her blood ran hot, then cold throughout her body. She didn’t know how she sensed that someone was in her room, she just did.

Had she heard... a click?

She bolted up, looking around, certain she was about to face a murderer, ready to shout.

Her shout died. There was no one there.

Shakily, she lay back down. Fool! She was becoming paranoid. Well, she had the right.

But she had to sleep. She must will herself to sleep.

She must have done so, because again she awoke. Aware. Feeling with every pore and cell in her body.

A scream rose in her throat. Someone was with her, watching her. Someone...

A hand fell over her mouth, stifling her scream just when it was about to rip fervently and harshly from her throat.

“It’s me!”

Jordan!

Damn him!

Shaking like a leaf, she sat up, thrusting his hand away from her face.

“What the hell’s the matter with you?” she demanded furiously.