Summer Mahogany (16 page)

His mouth had barely touched hers when the telephone rang. Rhyder cursed beneath his breath at the interruption. Although partially releasing her, he retained a hold around her waist, drawing her to the telephone with him. He kept her firmly beside him as he picked up the receiver.

Gina was close enough to hear the operator's voice. "We have your party on the line now."

It was his father. She knew instantly, remembering his comment to Pete that he had put a call through to his father. And she knew she didn't have the composure to listen to Rhyder relating the news that he was about to close the deal on the real estate Justin was selling.

Not when he would have to veil the words in sentences where she wasn't supposed to guess the part he was intending her to play in it. Firmly she began to slip from his hold.

"Hello, dad," Rhyder said. "Hold the line a minute." He slid his hand down to cover the mouthpiece as he turned to Gina. "What are you doing?"

"I'm going to the office," she stated.

"I'd forgotten what a stubborn little witch you are," he smiled grimly, but his glance slipped to the telephone receiver in his hand.

"I have work to do." Gina insisted taking advantage of the fact that he was torn between the desire to speak to his father alone and to have her stay. She glanced at the telephone in his hand. "So do you."

He gave her a long, hard look, then nodded. "All right, I'll see you tonight. I'll pick you up at your office."

"There's no need. I have my own car," she answered, only implying that she was agreeing to see him that night. In truth, she had no intention of it. She couldn't risk it.

As she started to turn away to make good her escape, he caught at her hand, saying, "If you're going to make me work all day at business, the least you can do is kiss me goodbye."

Hesitating, Gina pivoted back, pressing her lips to his for a warm but brief moment. It was more of a goodbye than he knew, and it tore at her heart. She moved quickly out of reach.

Rhyder chuckled softly. "You'll pay for that tonight," he said in warning at the briefness of her kiss. Then the smile faded from his eyes. "Seriously, Gina, we have a lot to talk about tonight as well as a lot of time to make up for."

Not the least among the items to be discussed would be Justin and the terms of the sale, Gina guessed bitterly. She simply smiled wanly in response to his statement and moved hurriedly toward the door. Before she reached it, she heard Rhyder speaking into the telephone.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, dad, but Gina was here… Yes, she's just leaving."

The rest of the conversation was lost to Gina as she stepped into the hallway and closed the door. It wasn't until she was outside that she realized she had no means of transportation. Her car was still parked in the lot near her office.

She paused beside an outdoor telephone booth, debating whether or not to call a taxi, before deciding that a brisk walk in the sharp September air was just what she needed to blow away the cobwebs spun by her emotions.

It was rather startling to hear the birds singing. She felt so dead inside. A scattering of leaves on the maple trees was tinged with crimson. To most, it would have been an indication of the autumn spectacle that approached the Maine flora. But the blood red shade only reminded Gina of the deep wound in her heart.

When she arrived at the office, she felt somewhat better from the long walk. Her heartache hadn't been resolved, but her determination not to let Rhyder use her had been strengthened. During the day Justin telephoned her twice, each time insisting it was urgent, but Gina didn't accept the calls.

She dismissed the urgency of his calls with the reasoning that Rhyder wouldn't approach him until he had his discussion with her. And he still didn't know the discussion would never take place.

A few minutes before five o'clock, Gina hurried from the office building. Despite her assurances to Rhyder that he needn't pick her up, she was half afraid he would be waiting for her. She made it to her car without anyone trying to stop her.

But she knew it wasn't over. There was still tonight. When she didn't arrive at his apartment, she knew Rhyder would telephone. And when she didn't answer the phone, which she wouldn't, he would come over.

Even if she did answer the telephone, Gina knew he would never accept her refusal to see him and would come to her apartment anyway. When he did come, she would call the police. She would have no other choice. She didn't dare listen to him; she was too susceptible to his brand of persuasion.

Her plans were well thought out and certain to succeed in keeping her from any direct contact with Rhyder, but Gina didn't feel any sense of triumph when she arrived at her apartment building. She loved him and wanted only his love in return, but to be used was more than her stiff-necked Yankee pride—a trait she had inherited from her grandfather—could bear.

Melancholy deadened her footsteps as she approached the door to her apartment and rummaged through her handbag for the key. She inserted it in the lock, turned it and pushed, but the door didn't budge. She tried it again with no success, then self-consciously double-checked to be certain she hadn't accidentally stopped at the wrong door.

It was her apartment, but the key wouldn't work in the lock. She doubled-checked to be sure she had the right key. She did.

Puzzled, she retraced her steps to the front part of the building where the resident manager lived. She knocked at the door. It opened a crack, a safety chain keeping it from opening all the way. Gina smiled politely at the housecoated woman peering at her.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, Mrs. Powell, but I can't seem to get my key to work. Could you use your passkey to let me into my apartment?" she requested.

The chain remained in place while the woman tipped back her head to peer at Gina through the half-moon lenses of her glasses, as if trying to place her. The pinched lines around her mouth softened slightly in recognition.

"Of course your key won't work," the elderly woman declared. "The man's already come to change the lock."

A winged brow arched briefly in surprise. Then Gina sighed. She supposed the notice had been slipped in her mailbox, but she hadn't checked it in several days. The only time she ever received mail of any importance was the first of the month when the bills arrived.

She had had no close family since her grandfather died, and correspondence with her school friends had long since ended. The locks had probably been as a precaution of some sort.

"Could I have the new set of keys?" she asked patiently.

"Why?" the woman wanted to know, straightening her hunched shoulders slightly.

"To get into my apartment, of course," Gina replied, exhaling a disbelieving laugh at the question.

"T'wouldn't be any reason to give 'em to you. There's nothin' in it that belongs to you," Mrs. Powell declared.

"What?" An open frown of bewilderment covered Gina's face as she tried to fathom this mysterious conversation.

"Everything's packed and gone. There's nothin' left there that's yours," the woman repeated in a louder tone, as if Gina were deaf.

"Gone where?" Gina demanded.

"Well, dearie, you're the one who should know where. It's not my business," the woman nodded.

"Well, I don't know where," Gina answered, her patience receding. "If somebody has taken my things, then it was without my permission. Would you mind letting me come in, Mrs. Powell, so I can phone the police?"

"The police? Why should you want to call them?" The woman frowned. "There was nothin' stolen. Your husband supervised the packin' of nearly everything himself."

"My husband?" Gina breathed in sharply. It all became suddenly very clear.

"Yes, your husband. You don't think I'd just let anybody into your apartment and take your things?" Mrs. Powell sniffed indignantly.

"Of course not," Gina acknowledged grudgingly, her lips compressed in anger.

All her well-laid plans were nothing. Rhyder had been so confident that he had moved her out lock, stock, and barrel. A slow anger set in.

"I explained to your husband that you still had four months left on your lease and a month's notice was required before vacating," the woman continued. "He paid for the rest of the lease and added another month's rent in lieu of notice. He took care of everything for you."

"Yes, I can see that," Gina nodded grimly.

"If there's nothing else…" There was a pregnant pause as the woman silently indicated that Gina was taking up her time needlessly.

"No. No, nothing else," Gina agreed after a second's hesitation. "I'm sorry to have troubled you, Mrs. Powell."

"That's quite all right." The door started to close, the chain slackening. It straightened again as the manageress added as an afterthought, "And congratulations, too. You have a fine man there."

Gina didn't respond to that as she turned on her heel, her temper simmering. She was saving the scalding fury of her anger for Rhyder. Its impetus carried her swiftly to her car.

Chapter Nine

COLD RAGE FILLED HER as Gina paused in front of Rhyder's apartment door. Her sharp, impatient knock echoed the pounding of her heart against her ribs. Within seconds the door swung open and Rhyder was facing her. A smile of lazy beguilement spread across the rugged planes of his tanned features.

"It's about time you got here," he declared warmly, reaching out to grasp the rigid muscles of her arms and draw her inside. "I was about to send out a search party for you."

Closing the door, he started to pull her the rest of the way into his embrace. Stiffly Gina resisted, her seething temper keeping her immune to his possessive touch.

"Just where did you think I might go?" The question came out in a low rush of harsh accusation that slowly straightened the curve of his mouth. "You made certain I had nowhere else!"

A smiling gleam remained in the brilliant blue of his eyes, crinkling at the corners as he gazed deeply into her green ones. The hands gripping her shoulders didn't force her nearer, nor did they let her go.

"The last time I saw the ocean look that way, it was building to a storm," Rhyder commented, referring to the turbulent shade of green in her eyes. "Did you have a rough day?"

Gina breathed in sharply, enraged that he could pretend to be so dense that he didn't know. He wasn't fooling her for a second. He knew very well why she was angry.

"I want to know where the things are from my apartment," she demanded.

"Your clothes are in the bedroom. There are some boxes of things in the spare room that I wasn't sure what you wanted to do with, and the odds and ends of furniture I had stored for the time being," Rhyder answered with leisurely ease.

"Who gave you the right to do anything with my things?" Gina challenged, incensed that he could so calmly admit to what he had done.

"So that's what you're so upset about." He smiled softly as he understood the cause of her anger. His hands began slowly massaging her shoulders and arms with a caressively stroking motion while his gaze ran possessively over her face, a smoldering light of banked desire in the look. "I probably should have let you know," he conceded, "but I wanted to surprise you."

"Surprise me!" Gina choked on the audacity of the bland claim.

"It's been my experience that women take an eternity of time sorting and packing to move and repeat practically the whole process when it's time to unpack. Experience gained from observing my mother and sister," he added, as if to assure her he had helped no other woman to move. "I decided that if I told you I was having a moving company come, you'd be there fussing around and it would take twice as long. Now it's all done and you don't have to be concerned about it."

"Well, you can just call up your precious moving company and have everything moved back!" she stormed.

His gaze narrowed, a quietness stealing over him, "Were you planning to maintain a separate residence?"

"A residence permanently separated from you!" Gina declared, and pulled away from his touch to further enforce her determination to have no part of him or his life.

Rhyder didn't try to reestablish physical contact with her, yet there remained a coiled watchfulness about him, indicating that any moment he could change his mind and strike. The air was charged between them, lightning tongues of tension licking her spine.

"I think you'd better explain that remark," he said in that dangerously quiet voice.

"I don't see what there is to explain," she retorted defiantly. "I thought it was perfectly clear. I am going to live in my apartment and you are going to live wherever else you choose. Your high-handed tactics of canceling my lease and moving my things out simply aren't going to work."

"I told you—" a muscle was flexing in his neck "—I was trying to be considerate. I wanted us to have time together instead of spending half of it moving you here."

Gina tossed her head in arrogant challenge. "When did I ever say that I wanted to live with you?"

His expression hardened. "You didn't in so many words," he admitted, "but last night your actions spoke for themselves."