Wonder and Wild Desire Page 6

  "I've noticed," Carrie replied with a wry smile. "But I'm not feeling neglected. I knew when I married Josh that he runs a large corporation which takes a great deal of his time."

  "It's unusual to find such understanding in one so young." Ethel sipped her tea, then returned the cup to the tray beside her. Mike was fidgeting in Carrie's lap now, and the older woman brought a small rubber duck from the folds of her robe. "Look what I have for you, Mike." The baby took the toy and began chewing on it contentedly, causing both women to laugh. "That should keep him occupied for a few minutes. I intend to keep several toys for him here so that he will enjoy coming to visit me. Ah…" She looked at Carrie with a soft expression. "There is nothing quite like having a baby in the house. But they grow up so quickly."

  "That's what everyone tells me," Carrie agreed, "and looking back on it, the past ten months seem to have flown. I must admit that, at the time, I thought those first few weeks would never pass."

  "Oh, yes," Ethel commiserated, "that short period of time when they demand such constant attention can be hectic. But it's all worth it. Even when you lose them later. I—I'm sure that Josh must have told you that my younger son, Danny, was killed over a year ago."

  "Yes."

  "I still miss him dreadfully," Ethel went on. "He was always so full of life. Oh, he was a handful, growing up, but I honestly believe that having Danny to cope with is what saved my sanity when my husband died. Josh, of course, was so involved in the business that I hardly saw him."

  Carrie was beginning to feel decidedly uncomfortable at the direction the conversation was taking. "Josh has told me only a little about the scope of the Revell businesses," she said, seeking to steer the talk into other channels. "There is a paper mill and a plywood plant in town, I believe, in addition to the lumbering operation? I don't know whether Josh told you, but I worked for one of your retail lumber outlets when I first moved to Boise."

  "Yes, he did," Ethel said. "I believe he said that's how you met."

  Carrie murmured her assent, unsure exactly what Josh had told his mother about their relationship in Boise and not wanting to say the wrong thing. Really, he should have briefed her more thoroughly!

  "Did you perhaps meet Danny, too?"

  "I—I believe I saw him once, but I never got to know him." Carrie really had no choice but to conceal the truth, but she didn't like doing it.

  To her relief, Ethel seemed willing to let the subject of Danny drop now. "Carrie, I want you to know how happy I was when Josh called to say he was getting married again. He's been so alone since Helen died so tragically in that hotel fire."

  "Hotel fire?" The words were out before Carrie had time to realize that they might sound too morbidly curious.

  "Yes, didn't Josh tell you? Helen had gone to Toronto for a few days. The hotel where she was staying burned down. I—I expect Josh didn't tell you because it's still painful for him to talk about. He never speaks of Helen to me, either. My elder son has always kept his own counsel. As his wife, you will be able to get him to talk about his feelings more than I can."

  "Ummm," Carrie murmured while thinking that her husband was even less likely to confide in her than in his mother. It was becoming evident that Ethel was expecting a great deal from this marriage, and Carrie felt sad that the older woman, whom she was coming to like, must ultimately be disappointed. But she had hardly had time to digest the new information about Josh's first wife and to wonder fleetingly what Helen had been doing in Toronto without Josh when Betty Carney knocked and opened the door to say, "Mrs. Thorpe is here to see you, Mrs. Revell."

  "Jessie?" Ethel said eagerly. "Tell her to come in, Betty." Turning to Carrie, she added, "Jessica Thorpe is a dear family friend. Her father and my husband grew up together."

  The woman who stepped into the room, trailing the aroma of an expensive French perfume, was striking-tall, with black hair and the excellent facial bones that make for classic beauty. Her hair was pulled back into a loose chignon, exposing to good effect high cheekbones, a straight patrician nose, and large brown eyes. She was built and moved like a model, Carrie noticed, and the thought caused, her to recall that the housekeeper had used the same description in speaking of Josh's first wife. Helen had been blond, however, while this woman's beauty was of the dark exotic variety. She couldn't help reflecting that Josh seemed to be surrounded by beautiful women, she felt self-consciously inadequate by comparison.

  Jessica Thorpe crossed the room and bent to kiss Ethel's cheek. "You're looking well, darling."

  "I'm feeling well, thank you, Jessie," Ethel said, taking the woman's hand in her own for a brief moment. "It's so good of you to call. I want you to meet Josh's new wife and son, Carrie and Mike."

  Jessica straightened to gaze down at Carrie with undisguised curiosity. "Hello, Carrie. I wanted to be one of the first to welcome you to town."

  "Thank you," Carrie replied and shifted the baby, who was becoming restless again.

  The black-haired woman's large, expressive eyes moved to Mike and she exclaimed, "What a precious child!" But there was a note of falseness in the statement and her laugh sounded brittle to Carrie. "Although I must say I can't imagine Josh in the role of a parent."

  "You're in for a surprise, then," Ethel told her amiably. "Josh is quite taken with this young man. In fact, I fear Carrie is going to have to be on guard lest Josh spoil him."

  "Incredible!" exclaimed Jessica as she threw off a mink-trimmed black coat, exposing a clinging emerald-green dress that molded itself to her fine figure. She sat down at the foot of the chaise longue beside Ethel. "Where is the new father?"

  Ethel glanced at Carrie, waiting for her to reply. "Josh went down to the office to go through his mail," Carrie said.

  Jessica's dark brows rose. "Really? What an unromantic bridegroom."

  Something in the black-haired woman's manner irritated Carrie and, somewhat to her own amazement, she heard herself saying, "Not all the time." What a liar you are, Carrie told herself. But then, remembering the way Josh had kissed her earlier that afternoon, she realized that her words were not entirely false and felt her cheeks grow warm with the memory.

  "But of course," Jessica was saying and a complacent smile settled on her mouth, as if she had had occasion to know this from personal experience. Her dark eyes narrowed as they ran over Carrie's jeans and the chambray shirt, rumpled by Mike's fidgeting, and Carrie wished that she had been dressed a little less casually for this encounter. She was glad when Jessica turned her attention back to Ethel. "It's going to be nice for you, having another woman in the house. I know that Josh can't give you much time. One must pay the price for having a successful son."

  "How right you are," Ethel agreed. "But I am hoping that Josh will be spending more time at home now that Carrie and Mike are here."

  "Knowing Josh," said Jessica dryly, "I wouldn't count too much on that."

  Why the woman's every statement should rankle so Carrie could not say, but she had to bite her tongue to keep from sounding downright snide. She managed to content herself with a murmured "Perhaps Mike and I will have to spend some time with him at work, then."

  "Why, yes," Ethel said, "he will want to show you through the plants. I'm sure he will appreciate your showing an interest in the business, Carrie. I'm afraid Helen never did."

  "I don't think Josh has time for conducting guided tours," Jessica put in succinctly.

  "I hope," said Carrie, restraining herself from gritting her teeth, "he won't put his wife and son in quite the same category as ordinary tourists."

  Jessica's eyes regarded her steadily for a moment, and then she turned to Ethel to say brightly, "I see the rosewood clock has arrived." She indicated a beautiful timepiece displayed in the corner bookshelf.

  "It came several days ago," Ethel told her. "Doesn't it go well with the furnishings in this room? I can't thank you enough for finding it for me. I'm just not up to ferreting through antique shops these days, much to my chagrin."

  "The
moment I saw it," Jessica said, "I knew it was perfect for you."

  "As usual," responded Ethel, "your taste is exquisite."

  "Do you like antiques?" Jessica inquired of Carrie.

  "Yes—I mean, I don't know much about them, but I think Ethel's pieces are quite beautiful."

  "Jessie is much more of a connoisseur than I am," Ethel said. "You must see her collection."

  "I'd be delighted to have you come by whenever it's convenient," Jessica said without a pause, yet Carrie couldn't help wondering how sincere the invitation really was.

  "Mike keeps me very busy," Carrie said, "but thank you. Perhaps in a few weeks we can get together." Carrie told herself hopefully that in a few weeks Jessica would have forgotten all about the invitation, for she had no desire to meet this self-assured female on her own ground.

  "Tell me, Jessie," Ethel said, "how are plans for the holiday bazaar progressing?" With a glance toward Carrie, she added, "We've had a bazaar at Thanksgiving time for the last ten or eleven years. The proceeds go to our local hospital."

  Ethel and Jessica plunged into a discussion of the booths planned by the bazaar committee, of which Jessica was chairperson. Carrie listened quietly while trying to keep Mike contented. He was growing bored with being held and seemed determined to get down on the floor. Finally Carrie put him down, but she kept him close to her by hanging on to a romper strap.

  It was obvious, from the conversation between the other two women, that they knew one another well and were quite fond of each other. Jessica Thorpe was clearly a frequent visitor, and Carrie found that this knowledge did not sit very well with her. She hoped she would be able to avoid most of Jessica's visits by pleading Mike's need for her attention.

  Finally Jessica took her leave, calling breezily over her shoulder that Carrie must call whenever she had a free afternoon. When she was gone, Ethel remarked, "Jessie's always so considerate. With all her civic activities, she manages to find the time to call on me once a week or so." She paused to look at Carrie reflectively for a moment. "Perhaps I should tell you, before you hear it from someone else. Everyone expected Josh and Jessie to marry."

  "I'm surprised that such a beautiful woman isn't already married," Carrie said in a carefully noncommittal tone.

  "Oh, she was. Her husband died several years ago. He left her well provided for, so she's never had to seek employment. She manages to fill her time with worthwhile projects such as the holiday bazaar, which is very commendable."

  "Of course," Carrie murmured. "Ethel—"

  "Now, I thought you were going to call me Mother."

  "I'm sorry. I'll get used to it in a few days. Mother, I think I'd better see to Mike's bath and put him down for the night."

  "The poor little dear has had a full day," Ethel agreed. "Look how he's rubbing his eyes."

  Carrie picked up the baby. "I've enjoyed our visit."

  "I want you to come often," Ethel told her. "You're welcome any time." She smiled warmly. "I think you're going to be very good for my son."

  Going up the stairs, Carrie decided that Ethel Revell was a woman who believed what she wanted to believe. Things were either black or white to her. Josh had married Carrie; therefore, in Ethel's mind, he loved her. Any other reason for her son's marriage would be totally unacceptable in Ethel's comfortable little world. And even though she probably would have preferred Jessica Thorpe as a daughter-in-law, she was prepared to approve of Josh's choice.

  Upstairs, Carrie ran warm water into her luxurious bathtub and undressed Mike. She set him down and watched him play with the rubber duck, which he had carried up with him from Ethel's apartment. After a while, she bathed and dried him and dressed him in warm flannel pajamas.

  But even as she was thus occupied, her mind kept returning to the meeting with Jessica Thorpe. Everyone had thought Josh and Jessica would marry, Ethel had said. Something told Carrie that Jessica Thorpe had believed that, too. She had come today to get a good look at the woman who had snatched Josh from under her nose—legally, at any rate.

  Carrie wondered suddenly if Josh was in love with the beautiful Jessica. If so, this "marriage of convenience" could certainly prove to be inconvenient for the two of them. Carrie found that it was quite easy to imagine them together. She also found that she did not particularly like the intimate scenes between Josh and Jessica that her imagination was conjuring up, and she pushed the images aside with determination.

  Her fears that Josh might have married her partly because she reminded him of his first wife seemed unfounded. Apparently he wanted nothing but Mike from the relationship, and if he chose to satisfy his other needs with Jessica, that was their business. Surely they would be discreet enough to keep such a relationship hidden.

  In which case, Carrie told herself firmly, she needn't even think about it.

  Chapter Four

  It was some time before Mike was willing to go unprotesting to his bed. Even though he was tired, he was still keyed up by the day's activities. Carrie finally resorted to rocking the crib gently until he fell asleep.

  Then she slipped quietly from the small room, pulling the doors closed behind her, and went back to the bathroom to luxuriate in a long bubble bath.

  After drying herself, she wrapped a towel around her body and went to the dresser drawer where she had placed her nightgowns. On top of the stack was the scanty white shorty that had been Jan's wedding present to her. As Carrie's fingers touched the gauzy material she remembered opening the gift in the Boise apartment before Josh came to take her to the judge's chambers.

  "Jan, you shouldn't have," Carrie had protested, knowing that her friend had paid more than she could afford for the gift.

  "Every bride needs at least one sexy nightgown," Jan had replied.

  Carrie had started to say something about the gown being wasted on her, since she would be spending her wedding night alone, but then decided to let the matter drop. Ever since Jan had heard of her plans to marry Josh, she had insisted on taking a romantic view of the situation. Carrie saw no reason to throw cold water on her friend's impulsive generosity.

  Now she lifted the gown from the drawer and looked at it with a wry smile. With careless movements she disengaged the towel, letting it fall to the floor, and slipped the gown over her head. Then, standing in front of a full-length mirror that rested on a stand in one corner of the room, she surveyed her reflection. Narrow straps held up a lace bodice that plunged to the high waistline between her breasts, the transparent skirt falling from just below her breasts to midthigh. She might as well have been naked, Carrie mused, noting that the gown's sheerness hid very little.

  However, since no one but herself was going to see it, she decided to leave it on so that she could tell Jan truthfully, if she ever asked, that she had worn it on her wedding night. Turning off all the lights except the bedside lamp, she crawled into bed, pulling the covers up around her, and began to leaf through a magazine she'd bought earlier to read on the plane.

  She had read two articles and a short story when she heard sounds coming from Josh's suite. She reached out to switch off the lamp, wanting to feign sleep in case Josh should come into the room. After several minutes she heard nothing more and decided that her husband had gone to bed. She didn't feel sleepy, so she turned the lamp back on and searched through the magazine for something else to read.

  She was five paragraphs into another story when suddenly the door to Josh's suite opened and he stood there, a wineglass in each hand, wearing a toast-colored velour robe tied with a wide belt at the waist and reaching to his knees. Below the robe, his long, muscular legs were bare, and Carrie had the abrupt instinctive knowledge that beneath the robe he was naked.

  The magazine slid from her hands, and she reached for the sheet that had slipped down to her waist, pulling it up to her chin. "What do you want?"

  He came slowly toward the bed, and Carrie saw strange fires burning in the golden depths of his eyes. "What a provocative question. Do you really need to ask w
hat I want?" He sat on the side of the bed, his glance raking over the smoothness of her hair and resting on her lips which were slightly parted in surprise.

  "I was almost asleep," she began, gripping the sheet about her shoulders even tighter.

  "Don't lie to me. I saw the light under your door and the magazine you were reading when I came in."

  Her stomach muscles tensed as she looked into his dark, handsome face, wishing she knew how to force him to stop coming and going here as if they were married in more than name only.

  He held her gaze for a moment, then said, "I want my wife to have a glass of wine with me before retiring."

  "I don't want any wine," she said, watching him carefully, wondering if he would leave if she threatened to call for help. Not likely, since he knew she wouldn't want to wake Mike.

  Then, as if he saw in her face some of the confusion she was feeling, he said quietly, "Please, Carrie. It seems little enough to ask."

  "Little enough? You have already taken my freedom and Mike, and now you want—" She bit her lip, for to finish what she had been thinking would probably only encourage him.

  "Stop behaving like a convent-educated adolescent." He frowned and pushed one of the wineglasses toward her. "Drink this before you make me so angry I force it down you."

  Seeing in his eyes that he was deadly serious, Carrie Slowly tucked the sheet across her body just below her armpits and took the glass from his outstretched hand. Sipping sparingly, she watched him over the rim.

  He seemed to relax and drank from his own glass. "This is one of the best French wines made. Do you like it?"

  "I—it's all right," she murmured. "I know little about wines."

  "Among other things?" There was a devilish glint in his eyes now. "You know little about men, too. Am I right?"