Lady Be Bad (11 page)

"I suppose she has to wear all that makeup
because she's Arthur's 'Face of the Century.'" He looked at his
companion. "Rather a ballsy statement, don't you think?"

"She doesn't seem to be snobbish about it,
sir." Perkins returned carefully. "As a matter of fact, I'd say
Miss O'Brian was wearing much less in the way of face paint than
the other ladies in attendance."

Noah looked around and made a guttural sound
of agreement. "You're right. I guess I'm not used to seeing her
looking like this. You know, when we were married our schedules
were so damn different. Sometimes we went for days without seeing
each other. She'd work nights and go to school days; I'd work days
and go to school at night.

"I remember her face all soft and pink from
sleep, and when she went to work, she used only a little lipstick
and a dab of powder. And perfume." He took a deep breath, becoming
drugged by an imaginary scent that rivaled the fragrant flowers
that flanked the patio. "I've never forgotten her perfume, Perkins.
She still wears the same one."

"My mother always drenched herself in lilac
water." The house manager sighed. His finger squeezed the nostrils
on his large nose. "To this day I still feel surrounded by that
odious smell."

"But I bet your mother never wore a dress
like that!" Noah reached for a cream-cheese-stuffed cherry tomato.
"That thing is positively indecent. Look at it. No, don't." His
back molars pulverized the fragile canapé. "I don't know how much
longer those skinny little straps can hold up that. . . that. . .
thin slice of silk."

His eyes darkened, taking in the dropped
waistline and scalloped hem that danced against Marlayna's knees.
"She never owned anything like that. All her dresses were
high-necked, long-sleeved, mid-calf. Nothing with that type of
neckline."

Plunging.
If he could see the creamy
swells of her breasts, so could every man in the room. And even
worse, if he stared hard enough, he saw that her nipples pushed
brazenly against the slinky, slippery bodice. With each move she
made, the sinuous fabric shimmered and delineated every lush curve
on her body.

Noah shifted in discomfort and quickly
downed the last of the scotch. "I don't remember her having a body
quite like that either, Perkins. She was never that...that. .
."

"Sexy, sir?"

"Yeah. Sexy. She was more wifely, homey, old
fashioned."

"Well, sir, it seems that saying: 'Women
don't get older, they get better,' is quite true in Miss O'Brian's
case."

He grunted. "Well, I always thought she was
better. The best. Why else would I have married her?"

Perkins ran a hand through the thin sweep of
gray hair that covered his head. "I've been in service to a number
of married couples, sir. And I've discovered there are lots of
reasons for people marrying."

"Like what?" He looked at him with
interest.

"Money, power, loneliness, revenge,
spite."

Noah shook his head. "Sounds more like the
ingredients of a TV soap opera."

"Life does have a way of imitating and often
surpassing art, sir."

"Well, I married that --" His index finger
jabbed into the bush, "…woman for love. That's the same reason I
divorced her. And the same reason I intend to marry her all over
again."

Perkins looked at Noah, his face devoid of
any expression. "Even with all the changes in her?"

"I don't really mind all her changes." His
expression turned bleak. "But I wonder how she likes all of mine."
Noah stared morosely at the ice cubes that were melting in his
glass.

"The cane, sir?"

"Yes, my little partner here." He patted the
black wood. "I do like this better than that wheelchair."

"What has been Miss O'Brian's reaction to
it?" Perkins inquired in an even tone.

"Interest, of course. I've yet to tell her
about everything." Noah sighed and ran a hand over his face. "But
at least she doesn't seem to pity me. I couldn't handle that,
Perkins. Gwen does, and it annoys the hell out of me."

Perkins cleared his throat. "About Miss
Gwen, sir?"

"Oh, God, I've got to handle her and Arthur
just right. You know how he can be."

"Indeed I do, sir."

Noah spread open another branch to inspect
the gathering. "Look at her, Perkins. Mimi fits right into this
crowd. She's undaunted by the politicians, plays kissy-kissy with
the Hollywood group, shares intimate little mutterings with the jet
setters. Makes me wonder…"

"About what, sir?" Perkins inspected the
last shrimp puff carefully before placing it into his mouth.

"She always hated parties. She was shy and
hesitant. And here she is making cutesy with everyone." Noah turned
his head. "Do you know she once volunteered to work a double shift
because she didn't want to attend the hospital Christmas party and
couldn't come up with a good excuse."

Noah took a deep breath. "I guess the thing
that really bothers me is her obvious fame. It's hard for me to
imagine my wife gracing the covers of magazines or her eye makeup
being copied by millions of women across America. Kind of
shattering to a man's ego, wouldn't you say, Perkins?"

"I'd be rather proud of Miss O'Brian, if it
were I, sir. She obviously is quite adept at handling people and
situations. She seems to take her fame with a modicum of humility.
There are other women present, a few of them models, starlets, and
wives of various important men, who flaunt their status and success
ad nauseam. I see none of that coming from Miss O'Brian."

"Why thank you, Perkins," a cheery feminine
voice interrupted. "That was a lovely thing to say."

"You're quite welcome, miss." Perkins
adjusted the cuffs on his formal serving jacket before standing up.
"May I bring you something?"

Marlayna lifted her champagne glass. "No
thanks. I just thought I'd come over here and toast Casanova."

Noah snickered.

"Now, now, get that look out of your eye,
Mr. Drake." She sat in the reverse direction on the seat Perkins
had just vacated. "I saw the way Gwen fairly sparkles when she
looks at you." Marlayna rubbed the crystal goblet against his jaw.
"Of course, I can't blame her. You are especially devastating
tonight in this formal white suit."

"I noticed you have a rather devastating
effect on Arthur," came his snarling comment. "Of course, it could
be that dress."

"This little old thing." Her voice was high
and innocent "Why I just threw it on."

"Little is right and you could have aimed
better." Noah turned his head. "Don't you realize the way every man
here can see your body?"

"How insulting! I've spent the last six
years worried and agonizing over you and now you have the nerve to
attack my morals."

"Not your morals," he shot back, "only your
cleavage!"

She sipped her wine and thought about it for
a moment. "I always thought you liked my cleavage." Marlayna looked
down at her breasts. "If I remember correctly, you never saw the
last reel of
Gone
With the
Wind
because you
were terribly involved in exploring my cleavage."

He tried to stop the grin that was forming
but failed. "Atlanta wasn't the only thing burning that night. We
really steamed up the windows in that Maverick. And you're right
--" the fingers on his right hand walked up her arm and down
between the valley of her breasts. "I love your cleavage."

The satin swells burgeoned under his
fingertips, the nipples thrusting aggressively against the thin
silk covering them. Noah leaned even closer, his warm breath
caressing her ear. "It's been an awful long time since I made love
to you any place but in my dreams."

Marlayna lifted his hand clear of her
breast. "So you think we can just pick up where we left off? Just
like that?" Her eyes were more ice gray than blue. "I haven't even
had the decency of an explanation about --" she waved her hand,
"…anything. And then of course there's Gwen."

Noah groaned. "How like a woman to mention
another woman."

"It seems I'm the
other
woman in this
affair."

"There is no affair, if that's what you're
worried about." His finger eased between his shirt collar and neck,
trying to gain more comfort. "I...I just need a little time.
Handling Gwen and Arthur is going to require a lot of tact and
diplomacy."

She brushed an imaginary speck off her skirt
while she digested that comment.
"They
require tact and
diplomacy. What about me? Am I supposed to jump into your arms and
into your bed just like …" she snapped her fingers, "…that?"

"I love you. You love me. That should be
enough." His voice grew husky as his knuckles caressed her jaw. "It
was the first time."

"I'm not sure you ever did love me."

"I loved you enough not to hurt you." He
cupped her chin and turned her face toward his. "I couldn't hurt
you, Mimi. I'd sooner walk away …"

"That's just what you did, Noah."

"No, that's just the point. I couldn't"

Her forehead puckered. "Couldn't what?"

"Couldn't walk. The doctors told me I'd
never walk."

"You're giving a pretty fair imitation of it
right now."

Noah's inflection changed from a sorrowful
calm to a low-toned rage. "That's because for the last five years
I've undergone countless operations, been a guinea pig for all
sorts of medical experiments, had every kind of therapy imaginable,
and am the proud owner of legs that cost over a million dollars!
You keep mentioning agony. Lady, you don't know what agony is!"

"Oh, don't I?" Marlayna's tone was just as
deadly. "How dare you!"

"I dare because I've been sitting here
watching you, Miss 'Face of the Century.'" He spat the words as
though they soured his mouth. "By the looks of things you haven't
been pining away."

"Well, looks can be deceiving."

"Really? You seem to be on kissing terms
with every Tom, Dick and Arthur here!"

Marlayna lunged to her feet. "I'd like to
take that cane and bash it over your head." Her eyes were
glittering slits. "You may have mega-million-dollar legs, Noah
Drake, but your brain isn't worth two cents! I don't think I'd wish
you on any woman, not even Gwen Kingman."

Noah made a grab for her arm. "Where do you
think you're going?"

She effortlessly moved out of his reach.
"Back to the party. Back to give every Tom, Dick, and Arthur
another kiss."

"Wait a minute. Don't you dare walk away
from me." He grabbed his cane and struggled to a standing position.
"I love you, damn it"

Marlayna lifted her shoulders in a carefree
shrug. "Really? Well, you are certainly making a lousy effort to
convince me."

"Just what in hell is that supposed to
mean?"

She inspected her manicure before speaking.
"I'm not quite sure."

His harassed, confused expression matched
hers. "If you don't know what you want, how am I supposed to know?"
Noah sat back on the bench and waited.

The dinner gong turned out to be her savior.
"Maybe I'll think of something while we're enjoying Arthur's kingly
feast" Without a backward glance, Marlayna blithely strolled in to
mingle with the others who were exchanging the terrace garden for
the banquet hall.

If she hadn't seen it with her own eyes and
actually been a part of it, Marlayna would have claimed that it was
impossible to serve two hundred people a sit-down dinner all at the
same time. But the vaulted ceilings in the castle's massive dining
room echoed with applause once everyone took their assigned seats
at the tables, which were arranged in the shape of a horseshoe.

Her seat was on the inside curve. On her
left was the senior senator from New York, on her right a movie
producer from Hollywood, immediately across was an ambassador and
his wife. Catty-cornered was Arthur's smiling face. On the left and
farther down, Noah's scowling one.

Shaking out a red linen napkin emblazoned
with the Kingman crest, Marlayna knew the next move with Noah was
up to her. "And for the life of me, I don't know what to do!" She
mumbled to herself. "Or exactly what I want," she added
ruefully.

No, that wasn't quite true. Marlayna knew
what she wanted. She wanted to be away from all these people. Away
from all the gossip and laughter. She wanted to be with Noah in a
secluded spot so they could talk and share their respective agonies
and see if their future was to be together.

"More champagne, miss?"

"Thank you, Perkins." She smiled at his
intense expression. "Everything looks wonderful. I don't know how
you and the staff managed all this."

"Neither do I." His eyes glanced left and
right. "Henry the Eighth never hosted such a gathering." Perkins
wiped the neck of the bottle of Moet with a white cloth. "If I may
say, Miss O'Brian, Mr. Drake is a bit overwhelmed by your
status."

Marlayna leaned back into the red leather
chair so she could speak without her table companions listening.
"What would you suggest I do?"

He was thoughtful a moment while his fingers
deftly rearranged two forks that were in reverse order. "Men,
unfortunately, have quite fragile egos, miss." Perkins gave her a
minuscule little bow and moved on to fill the next empty
goblet.

So that was it! Noah was having an ego
problem. Marlayna slanted a casual glance in his direction and
found that he was staring at her. She hastily looked away. A
deflated ego was a bit out of character for him. Not that he had
ever been a swaggering Mr. Macho. But Noah had always been very
self-confident, sure of himself in any situation. He always was
there to support her when they were in a group.

Maybe she had overwhelmed him. He kept
commenting on her appearance and pointing to his own. Yes, Noah's
disability was one that could be seen. But she had one too — a
disability that had affected her heart, mind and soul.