Tears of the Renegade Page 8

  Agitation tumbled Susan’s insides with a restless hand, and she got to her feet, unable to sit still. “It’s impossible,” she blurted. “I’m not a…a slut. I can’t sleep with him just to spy on him!”

  Imogene looked affronted. “Of course you wouldn’t, but I’m not asking that of you, Susan. All I’m asking is that you see him, talk to him, try to find out what he’s planning. I realize that it may cost you a few kisses, but surely you’re willing to give that in exchange for our protection.”

  A few kisses! Did Imogene really know so little about her own nephew? Susan shook her head slowly, denying the idea to herself, as well as to Imogene. “A few kisses isn’t what he wants,” she said, her voice muffled. And even if she went to bed with him, he still wouldn’t divulge any secrets to her. All he wanted from her was a good time in bed, physical release, a momentary pleasure.

  Imogene didn’t give up easily; there was steel in her spine, in her character. Sitting very upright, her chin lifted proudly, she said firmly, “Then it’s up to you to keep him under control. You’re not a teenager, to be seduced in the backseat of a car to the theme of ‘but everyone does it.’ You can string him along.”

  If Susan had been less shocked, she would have laughed aloud, but as it was she stood frozen, staring at Imogene as if she were a stranger. What her mother-in-law was telling her to do struck her as little less than prostitution, and she felt chilled by the realization that Imogene had so little regard for her feelings, her morals. She was simply supposed to do whatever was asked of her.

  “No,” she refused in a low voice. “I can’t…I won’t do it.”

  A cold fire began snapping in Imogene’s eyes. “Really? Do you care so little for me, for Preston, that you’ll simply stand and watch while that wretch destroys us? We won’t be in it by ourselves, you know. You’ll suffer, too. If he decides to sue us for damages, he could bankrupt the company, and there would go the standard of living that you currently enjoy. People will talk about you just as they would about us; everyone will believe that you knew about the money from the beginning. You’ve made a big show of ‘working’ at the company since Vance died, so people will assume that not only did you know about it, you approved.”

  Susan had seen Imogene in action before, and knew that few people could stand up to her when she lashed out with her lethal tongue, when she stared at someone with those cool, hard eyes. Most people gave in to her without even a hint of resistance. Vance had had the strength to soothe her, agree with her, and calmly go about his own business in his own way, smiling at her and charming her whenever she realized that he’d ignored her directions. Preston wasn’t that often at variance with her, though he was a lot warmer, a lot more human. Because she had been challenged so seldom in her life, she didn’t expect anyone to disobey her openly. The quiet determination Susan had shown in becoming Vance’s wife, then in taking up the reins of his business interests at his death, should have told her that Susan wasn’t like most people, but still she wasn’t prepared for a refusal.

  Susan stood very straight, very still, her expression calm, her dark blue eyes quiet and level. “Regardless of what anyone says, I’ll know that I haven’t done anything wrong, and that’s what’s important to me. I’ll help you any way I can, except for that way. I’ll sell everything I own, but I won’t play the whore for you, and that’s what you’re asking me to do. You know as well as I do that Cord isn’t a man who can be controlled by any woman.”

  Imogene got to her feet, her mouth tight. “I expected more loyalty from you than this. If you want to turn your back on us when we’re in trouble, I can’t stop you, but think very carefully about what you stand to lose.”

  “My self-respect,” Susan said dryly.

  Imogene didn’t storm out of the house; she swept out, regally, in a cold rage. Susan stood at the window and watched her drive away, her chest tight with hurt and sadness because she hadn’t wanted to damage the relationship she had with Imogene. Since she’d first met Vance’s mother, she had carefully cultivated a closeness with the older woman, knowing how important the ties of family were to a marriage, and how much Vance had loved his mother despite her reserve. Imogene wasn’t a villain, even though she was autocratic. When she loved, she loved deeply, and she’d fight to the death for those she cared about. Her blindness was her family; anything was acceptable to her if it protected her family. Until now Susan had been wrapped in that fierce blanket of protection, but now she felt that she’d been cast out as Cord had been cast out. Dues had to be paid if someone expected to benefit from that protection; conformity was expected, and a willingness to sacrifice oneself for the well-being of the whole. Cord had been cast out because he hadn’t conformed, because he’d left the family open to gossip. His reputation hadn’t been up to par, and he’d been forced out of the closed circle.

  Had he felt like this? Susan wondered, running her hands up her chilled arms. Had he felt lost, betrayed? Had he been alarmed to be without the support that he’d known since birth? No, he hadn’t been alarmed, not that man; instead he would have thought with grim delight of punishing them for turning their backs on him. Wasn’t that what he was doing now?

  Cord. Somehow all her thoughts these days returned to him, as if he had become the center of her world. She hadn’t wanted him to, but since the moment he’d walked in from the night, he had eclipsed everyone else in her every waking thought, in her dreams, had invaded even her memory, so that she constantly had the taste of his mouth on her tongue, felt the hard warmth of his hands on her flesh. I could love him! she thought wildly, and shuddered in half fear, half excitement. Loving him would be the most dangerous thing she’d ever done in her life, yet she felt helpless to deny the effect he had on her. If it wasn’t love yet, it had nevertheless gone beyond mere desire, and she was teetering on the edge of an emotional chasm. If she fell into it, she’d be forever lost.

  The emotional strain that she was under was visible on her face the next morning when she walked into the office, later than usual for her because she’d spent a restless night, then overslept when she finally did manage to fall asleep. Because she felt so frazzled, she’d attempted to disguise her emotional state by hiding behind an image that was sterner than the one she usually projected. She’d pulled her soft dark hair back into a tight knot and applied makeup carefully, hoping to divert attention from the lost expression in her eyes. The dress she had chosen was sleekly sophisticated, a black silk tunic with narrow white vertical stripes, cinched about her slender waist with a thin black belt. It wasn’t a dress that she wore often, because it had always seemed too stark for her, but today it suited her mood perfectly.

  She told Beryl good morning, then went straight through to her office and closed the door, hoping to submerge herself in the reports that she hadn’t finished the day before, because she’d been in such a hurry to see Cord. A wasted effort, she thought with a painful catch in her breath. Resolutely she pushed away the thought of her failure and picked up the first report, only to replace it when someone knocked firmly on her door.

  Without waiting for an answer, Preston let himself in and sauntered over to ease himself into the chair opposite her desk. He sprawled in it and pressed his fingers together to form a steeple, over which he peered with blue eyes alive with curiosity. “What did you say to Mother?” he asked with relish. “I haven’t seen her so angry in years.”

  Susan caught the grin that twitched at his mouth, and against her will she found herself smiling at him. Preston had a little bit of the devil in him at times, a puckish sense of humor that he seldom allowed to surface. Whenever he did, it made his eyes sparkle in a manner that reminded her strongly of Vance. Now was one of those times. Despite the pressure he was under, he was being eaten alive with curiosity, wondering what Susan could possibly have said to his mother to put her in such a snit.

  She wasn’t certain just how much to tell him, if anything. She decided to stall. “Did Imogene tell you that Cord turned down my of
fer of the ridges?”

  He nodded. “I’m glad, too. I know it would’ve been the easy way, but I don’t want you to pay for something that was our fault. You know that.” He gave a graceful shrug. “Mother didn’t agree; she thought that it would be worth it if we stopped any trouble before it began.”

  Yes, head off scandal, at any cost. Deciding to tell him the truth in the hope that he would support her, she took a deep breath and braced herself. “She wanted me to see Cord—play up to him—and try to find out what he was planning so you could counteract it. I refused.”

  Preston’s eyes had widened, then narrowed as he realized the scope of her simplified explanation. He swore softly. “Thank God for that! I don’t want you around him. Mother shouldn’t have suggested anything like that.”

  “She’d do anything to protect her family,” Susan offered in Imogene’s defense.

  “Telling you to play up to Cord is like throwing a lamb to the wolves,” he snapped. “You wouldn’t have a chance. What in hell ever gave her the idea?”

  A faint blush crept into Susan’s cheeks, and she looked away from him. “She knows that he kissed me….”

  Preston bolted upright in his chair. “He what?”

  “He kissed me,” she repeated steadily. Did Preston think that was something to be ashamed of?

  He’d turned pale, and abruptly he surged to his feet, running his fingers through his neat hair in an uncharacteristic gesture. “I thought, the night he first showed up, that he was just playing up to you to get back at me. Is that all it is?”

  Susan bit her lip; she honestly didn’t know. Her body told her that Cord Blackstone’s interest wasn’t limited to her name, but her mind worried over the issue. A man’s sexual instincts could be aroused even when he had another motive for seducing a woman, so she couldn’t let herself be confused by the physical responses he’d shown. Yet, he’d responded to her from the very beginning… Just when her heart was beginning to beat faster in faint hope, she saw herself stretching out her hand to him, and heard herself saying, “I’m Susan Blackstone…” No, he’d known from the first that she was a Blackstone, married to either Vance or Preston. Unhappily, she looked up at Preston. “I don’t know,” she said miserably.

  He began to pace around the room. “Susan, please, don’t have anything else to do with him. Don’t see him at all, unless you have to. You don’t have any idea of the type of man he is.”

  “Yes, I do,” she interrupted. “He’s a hard, lonely man.” How could he not be lonely? He might have built an emotional wall to guard him, but he was all alone behind it.

  Preston gave her a derisive, unbelieving look. “My God, how can you be so naive? You’ve got to stop seeing good in everyone! Some people are bad all the way through. Will you promise me not to see him again, and protect yourself before he has a chance to really hurt you?”

  There was a very real chance that he wouldn’t want to see her, but suddenly she knew that if by some miracle he gave her another opportunity, she’d seize it with both hands. She wanted to be with him. She wanted to kiss him, to try to discover if what she felt for him was a fleeting sexual magic, or if the seeds of real love had been sown. For five years she’d grieved for Vance, and though her love for him would never die, neither would it grow. Vance was frozen in place in her heart, but he didn’t occupy all of it. There was still so much love in her to give! She wanted to love again; she wanted to marry again, and bear children. Perhaps Cord wasn’t the man who would be able to touch her heart, but she already knew that she had to take the chance. If she let the opportunity pass, she’d always wonder about it, and mourn for lost chances for the rest of her days.

  She looked Preston in the eye. “I can’t promise that.”

  He swore softly, and suddenly his shoulders hunched.

  “All of these years,” he muttered. “First you were Vance’s wife, then his widow. I’ve waited, knowing you weren’t over Vance, that you weren’t ready to become involved with anyone else. Damn it, why does it have to be Cord?” The last sentence was a harsh cry, and his chest swelled with the fury inside him. He gave Susan a look so tortured that tears welled in her eyes.

  She found herself on her feet, unable to calmly sit there while he bared his deepest secret to her. “Preston…I didn’t know,” she whispered.

  His clear blue eyes were a little shiny, too. “I know,” he said, taking a shuddering breath. “I made sure I kept it from you. What else could I do? Try to steal my brother’s wife?”

  “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry!” What else was there to say? Events couldn’t be altered. Perhaps, if their lives had been allowed to go on undisturbed, she might one day have come to love Preston in the way he wanted, though she rather thought that instead she would always have seen him as Vance’s brother, and looking at him would always have been like looking at a slightly altered photo of Vance. But the even tenor of her life had been disrupted from the moment she’d seen Cord, and crossing that dance floor to take his hand and shield him from the scene that had been brewing had forever altered her, in ways that she hadn’t yet discovered.

  “I know.” He turned his head away, not wanting her to see the depth of his pain. He was a man of pride and patience, and his patience had gained him nothing. All he could do now was cling to his pride. He walked to the door and left, his shoulders square, his gait steady, but still Susan knew what the effort cost him, and her vision blurred as she watched him.

  Would Cord be glad that, even involuntarily, he’d managed to hurt Preston? She winced at the thought. She’d certainly never tell him that Preston had hoped for a deeper relationship. What he’d told her today would go no further; it was the least she could do for someone she loved as much as she could, even though, for him, that wasn’t enough.

  Chapter Five

  By Friday her emotional turmoil had taken its toll on her, and the price she’d paid was evident in an even more slender waistline, and a fragility in her face that was startling. She and Imogene had made up, in a way. They had spoken to each other on the phone, never making reference to their difference of opinion, but their conversation had been stilted and brief. Imogene had simply asked her if she would be attending Audrey Gregg’s Friday night fund-raising dinner for a local charity. Imogene had a prior commitment, and she wanted Susan to go, since Audrey was a very good friend. Susan had agreed, reluctant to face an evening of having to smile and pretend that everything was all right, but acknowledging her family duty. At least it wasn’t formal, thank God. Audrey Gregg believed in keeping her guests entertained; there would be dancing, a generous buffet instead of a sit-down dinner, and probably a night-club act brought in from New Orleans.

  Spring was tantalizing them again with marvelous weather, though only the day before it had been cold and overcast. Today the temperature had soared to eighty, and the forecasters had promised a mild night. With that in mind, Susan dressed in a floaty dress in varying shades of lavender and blue, with a wrap bodice that hugged and outlined her breasts. She was too tired and depressed to fool much with her hair, and simply brushed it back, securing it behind each ear with filagree combs. The sun was setting in a marvelous skyscape of reds and gold and purples when she drove over to Audrey’s house, and the natural beauty lifted her spirits somewhat. How could she keep frowning in the face of that magnificent sunset?

  The brief lifting of her spirits lasted only until she glanced over the crowd at Audrey’s and saw Cord, casually sophisticated in gray flannel slacks and a blue blazer, dancing with Cheryl Warren. Cheryl again! Though Cheryl was a likable person, unexpectedly kind despite her chorus-girl looks, Susan felt an unwelcome sting of jealousy. It was just that Cheryl was so…so sexy, and so together. Her tall, leggy body was svelte, with a dancer’s grace; her makeup was always a little dramatic, but always perfectly applied, and somehow right for her. Her ash-blond hair looked wonderful—loose and sexy, tousled.

  Compared to Cheryl, Susan felt nondescript. Her simple hairstyle suddenly seemed c
hildish, her makeup humdrum, her dress the common garden variety. She scolded herself for feeling that way, because she knew the dress was becoming to her and was perfectly stylish. It was just that Cord made her feel so insecure, so unsure of herself and what she wanted. Then she had to admit to herself that she did know what she wanted: She wanted Cord. But she couldn’t have him; he was all wrong for her, and he didn’t want her anyway.

  Suddenly Preston was at her elbow, his strong hand guiding her to the buffet. With a pang, Susan realized that normally she would have been here with Preston, but this time he hadn’t even asked her. Cord had managed to drive a wedge between her and Preston, whose friendship she had depended on for so long. How pleased he would be if he only knew what he’d done!

  Preston’s blue eyes were worried as he looked down at her. “Relax for a minute,” he advised. “You’re wound up like a two-dollar watch.”

  “I know,” she sighed, watching as he automatically filled a plate for her. He knew all her favorite foods, and he chose them without asking. When he had two laden plates in his hand, he nodded over to a group of empty chairs and they made their way across the room to claim them, with Susan stopping enroute to fetch two glasses of champagne punch.

  He watched as she nibbled on a fresh, succulent Gulf shrimp. “You’re lovely,” he said with the blunt honesty of people who know each other well. “But you look as if you’re going to fly into a million pieces, and that isn’t like you.”

  She managed a wry smile. “I know. You don’t know how I wish I could do more than catnap. At least Imogene’s speaking to me again.”

  He grinned. “I knew she wouldn’t last long. She’s been so restless, it was almost funny. Honey, if it’s such a strain on you, why don’t you take a vacation? Forget about all of this and get away from all of us for a while.”