The Tawny Gold Man (15 page)

"Anne!"

"I'm sorry, Melly," Anne cried. "I know how much you love him and I'm truly sorry. But I won't discuss it. I can't. I'm so tired. All I want to do is rest awhile." Turning away she sobbed. "Maybe I shouldn't have come here."

"Nonsense." Melly turned her around and gave her a quick hug. "Of course you should have, and I promise you I'll ask no more questions. Now, I think you should hop into bed, start getting some of that rest you obviously do need."

In the days Anne stayed with Melly she did rest, and although she refused to talk about the action she was about to take, she did tell Melly the name of the motel she had booked a room at, when she went back.

* * * *

She was packing to leave when Mel called her to the phone. Passing Mel in the hall on her way to the phone, Anne cast her a reproachful look. Shrugging fatalistically, Mel murmured.

"I only promised not to ask questions."

Lifting the phone with shaking fingers, Anne breathed, "Yes?"

"What time does your plane get in? I'll meet you."

No hello. No how are you. Just a cold, flat request for information.

"No, Jud." Anne's tone was equally cold and flat.

"Anne, we have to talk this out sometime," he argued patiently. "It may as well be tonight."

"I don't want to talk to you, Jud. My lawyer will talk for me."

"Dammit, Anne," he snapped, all pretense at patience gone. "Do you have any idea of the upheaval you've caused here? Todd and Troy have been ready to climb the walls. I was practically sitting on them to keep them from calling and upsetting your mother, when Mel called. Now stop behaving like a spoiled little girl and tell me what time your plane gets in."

She gave in and told him, thinking wearily, what difference did it make? He was right, they would have to talk sooner or later, might as well get it over with.

He was waiting at the airport, hard-faced and cold-eyed and, without a word, he retrieved her suitcase, grasped her elbow, and led her to the car.

After they were out of the worst of the traffic, Anne told him the name of the motel she wanted to go to only to have him growl.

"We're going home."

"But I don't want to go home."

"To tell you the truth, Anne," he returned tiredly, "right now I don't give one damn what you want. We can talk there without being disturbed. I shipped Troy and Todd to New York for a couple of days to work with John. We'll have the barn to ourselves." He grinned ruefully. "You can even scream at me if you want to."

Not bothering to answer him, Anne withdrew into a cold, unresponsive silence. When they reached the house, Anne flung her coat at a chair in the foyer and headed purposefully toward the living room. Jud's hand grasped her arm, pulled her around, and ignoring her struggles and protests pushed her up the stairs in front of him. When they reached her room he shoved the door open, nudged Anne inside, tossed her suitcase into a corner, kicked the door shut, then stood, balled fists on his hips, and demanded, "Okay, what's the story?"

The white, bulky-knit pullover he wore made his shoulders look even broader than usual and his stance, the way his eyes gleamed, frightened her. Stepping back, she moistened her dry lips.

"I'm going to divorce you, Jud. I have an appointment with my lawyer tomorrow morning."

"Why did you go away like that without a word to anyone? Why didn't you at least let me know where you were?"

His harsh voice flung the questions at her like stones and in a tone of equal harshness she flung the answer back.

"Because I didn't want you to know where I was. I didn't want to see you or talk to you."

Turning around, she walked to the window, stared at her own reflection.

"I still don't."

"Are you trying to kill me by inches?"

Barely breathing, Anne stood perfectly still, His voice had dropped to a ragged whisper and his words threw her off balance. Beginning to tremble, she turned to look at him.

"What are you talking about?"

"You, and the hell you've put me through," he lashed out at her. "I was damn near out of my mind when Mel called me."

"But why?" she cried out in bewilderment. "Jud, I don't understand you."

"Don't you?" he rasped. "Well, then, maybe it's time you did."

Had he gone mad? Eyes widening, Anne watched as his hands yanked the sweater, tugged it up his body and over his head. With a violent motion he threw it down and lifted his head to stare at her.

"Come here, Anne."

Half afraid to move, more afraid not to, she walked unsteadily across the room, coming to a stop in front of him.

"The medal I wear on the chain. Does it look familiar, Anne?"

Anne's eyes dropped to the oddly shaped medal; then, a look of disbelief on her face, they flew back to his.

"Take it in your hand. Examine it closely."

Her eyes went back to the medal as hesitantly, fingers shaking, she touched it, lifted it from his chest. The oval was warm from the touch of his skin, its matte finish glittering dully in the artificial light, and etched onto its surface were the initials J. C. C. Turning it over, she saw the back was exactly the same, etched with the same initials.

She had no need to speak, her eyes asked the question.

"I never wore them as links," he said quietly.

Her finger moved over the surface.

"But how? Why?"

"How? Very simple." His hands came up to cover hers, closing it around the disc. "Not long after I left, I took it to a jeweler. He removed the posts, fused the two together and attached the loop. I've worn it ever since. It's been my talisman, my good luck charm, my curse. Except when I went into surgery when my nose was broken, I've never had it off. Why? Because it was all I had of you."

The pain in his voice tore at Anne's heart. What was he trying to do to her? Jerking her hand from his, she stepped back.

"But you went away," she sobbed. "You went away."

"You drove me away."

Shocked by his suddenly renewed anger, she stood dumbly, shaking her head.

"Why did you come to my room that night, Anne? Were you experimenting? Were you curious?" His harsh voice hammered at her. Giving her no time to deny his words, he went on. "Do you have any idea what it does to a twenty-five-year-old man to face the fact that he's in love with a fifteen-year-old girl? Or what it's like to watch that girl grow into a lovely young woman? Wanting her? Needing her?"

"But there were other women, Jud," Anne cried hopelessly. "I know there were."

"Hell, yes," he shot back. "There were a lot of women before that night. And a lot more since. And for the same reason. Always the same reason. To exorcise you."

Reaching out his arm, he caught hers, drew her close to him.

"And you know what?" His voice was a tormented groan. "It didn't work. I said I'll always love you and I always have. Even while I was hating you I loved you, so no matter what you do, I guess I always will. I don't want to, Anne, but I do. And I'm not going to let you divorce me."

Anne closed her eyes, afraid to breathe, afraid to move, afraid that if she did she'd hear him laugh and say he was lying and she knew she could not bear that.

"Anne?"

The note of hesitant fear that laced Jud's tone set off a million tiny lights inside Anne, and not pausing to think she whispered, "Oh, Jud. I love you so much I can't stand it."

For one terrifying second he didn't move, and then she was hauled roughly against him and held there tightly in hard, possessive arms. Murmuring her name, he bent his head but she lifted her hand to put her fingers over his lips. She knew the mindless state his kiss could induce. She had to have some answers first.

"Jud, no."

He stiffened then leaned back, his arms loosening.

"No? Anne, what are you trying to do to me?"

"Jud, I'm sorry, but I must know. How did I drive you away? Was I too young? Too inexperienced?"

His hand came up to cradle her face, hold it still. Bending his head, he dropped a light, tantalizing kiss on her mouth and murmured, "Of course you were too young. But I was past worrying about age at that point and, if you hadn't told him you never wanted to see me again, nothing would have kept me away from you."

"Your father?" Anne's eyes flew wide.

"Yes," he sighed. "My father. We had one hell of a fight. Even after he told me how you begged him to send you away so you wouldn't have to see me again, I insisted on seeing you. He was determined I wouldn't. I came pretty close to hitting him that night, Anne. I loved him. Hell, I damned near idolized him, but I came very, very close. We were shouting at each other. I had never seen him so mad."

Dropping his hands, he moved away from her. She saw a shudder ripple across his naked shoulders and when he turned to face her again, his eyes were bleak, his face pale, ravaged with memories.

He went on the prowl, moving restlessly around the room, fingers raking through his hair.

"He called me all kinds of names, none of them pretty. He accused me of trying to rape you. Told me that I had probably scarred you for life. By then I must have seemed like someone demented. I told him I had to see you, tell you." He stopped pacing, shot her a hard look. "He kept repeating how you'd begged him to keep me away from you. Said that if I had an ounce of decency I'd get out and stay out. By the time I left, he had me feeling like I should crawl instead of walk."

Tears running down her race, Anne sobbed. "I didn't say anything. He gave me some pills, I fell asleep. The next morning—when I woke up—I—I kept thinking, everything will be all right, Jud will make it all right. And then, when I found out you were gone—Oh, Jud, I was so sure you'd come for me. I waited and waited."

Jud went absolutely still at her words, the raw pain in her voice. Growing pale under the burnished tan, his face revealed the conflict of emotions he was feeling. Lids that had gone wide now narrowed over eyes that combed her face, searched for truth. He found it in the eyes that pleaded to be believed, the anguish in the one word she whispered.

"Jud."

His face twisted with inner torment and his eyes closed completely as he expelled a long, ragged sigh. In three strides he was across the room. Pulling her into his arms he pressed her face against his rough chest

"Damn him," he snarled. "Damn him to the same hell he put me through."

"Jud! You mustn't say that," she cried wildly. "He probably thought he was protecting me."

"He damned near protected you into marriage with Andrew." A shudder rippled through his body and his arms tightened possessively. "I came so close to losing you," his voice dropped to a hoarse growl. "Damn him."

"Jud, don't," Anne sobbed. "He's gone. Please, please don't hate anymore."

"Okay, okay," he murmured. "I'm sorry. Calm down."

His hand at the back of her head lifted her face to meet his searching mouth and in between short, hungry kisses he murmured, "Don't cry, chicken. I promise you, we'll make up for all those years."

"What about Lorna?"

"Lorna?" An expression of total blankness crossed his face. "What about her? She's marrying Andrew tomorrow."

"I—I thought you were in love with her. That you'd given her up and married me, to get control of the firm."

"Good God!" His arms tightened, his lips teased hers. "I married you to get control of you. Say the word and I'll go to the phone, transfer my shares to Troy and Todd, if you'll call and cancel your appointment with your lawyer."

"You know I'm going to cancel that appointment," she admitted, "as well as you know I'd never ask you to give up your shares."

His soft laughter did strange things to Anne's spine. It was a lighthearted, teasing sound. A sound she had not heard in over ten years.

"I know," he grinned then he sobered again. "But I would do it, honey. I'd do just about anything to keep you with me."

While his one hand caressed the back of her head, the other moved sensuously over her back, drawing her closer, closer to his body.

"Oh, Anne," he groaned. "Even when I hated you the most, I wanted you. There were times when I thought I'd go crazy with wanting you. When I first heard that rumor about you and the old man—" He closed his eyes a moment and when he opened them again they were blazing with remembered fury. "I wanted to kill you-—both of you. I spent the last few years before I came home hating you. Or believing I did. When I stood in that cemetery and stared at his coffin, I knew I had been lying to myself. I loved him."

“You were at the cemetery?"

"Yes, I was at the cemetery." He cocked a pale brow at her in self-mockery. "And when I walked into the library afterward, I knew nothing had changed for me, I still loved you, I still wanted you, and I still thought of you as mine. As for Lorna, she is a good secretary and a good friend and nothing more."

"Then why did she answer the phone in your apartment the day I called?" The strident note of jealousy in her own voice startled Anne and she caught her lip between her teeth.

"What day?" The sharpness of his tone conflicted with the genuine bafflement in his eyes.

"The day I left to go to Melly's," Anne whispered, suddenly not sure she wanted to hear the reason Lorna was there. "I called the apartment because of a problem at the mill I didn't know how to handle," she explained hurriedly. "When Lorna answered, I hung up."

"Having jumped to the obvious, but incorrect, conclusion." Jud's arms tightened around her as he lowered his head, rubbed his cheek against her hair. "If you hadn't hung up, you'd have learned there were several people with me that night, including Lorna's father. We were having an informal, if serious, business meeting over dinner. Lorna was there as my secretary, nothing more." He sighed, drew his head back to look at her, a teasing light entering his eyes. "Although I must admit that a few times I deliberately used Lorna's name in the hope of getting a reaction from you." His arms tightened even more, almost painfully. "I was so damned jealous of Andrew and I wanted you to feel something, if only a tiny measure, of the pain I was in."