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“Honest.”
“A man without ambition or social graces.”
“Without pretenses.”
“And apparently without morals. He took advantage of your solitude and confinement.”
She laughed softly. “I don’t remember exactly who dragged whom into the bedroom, but he certainly didn’t force me into bed with him.”
“So you are lovers?”
“Not anymore,” she said tearfully.
Cooper thought she had betrayed him, too, just like that other woman, Melody. He thought she had been her father’s instrument, using bedroom tactics to turn a profit. He would never forgive her, because he didn’t believe that she loved him.
“You’ve been his lover all this time? Behind my back?”
She started to point out that at the ripe old age of twenty-seven she shouldn’t have to account to her father for her private life. But what was the use? What did it matter? The starch had gone out of her. She felt sapped of strength, of energy, of the will to live.
“When we were in Canada, yes. We became lovers. When he left my hospital room that day, he went home and hasn’t been back since. Not until this afternoon.”
“Then apparently he has more sense than I gave him credit for. He realizes that the two of you are completely incompatible. Like most women, you’re looking at the situation through a pink fog of romance. You’re letting your emotions rule you instead of your head. I thought you were above that female frailty.”
“Well, I’m not, Father. A female is what I happen to be. And I have all the frailties, as well as all the strengths, that go with being a woman.”
He came to his feet and crossed the room. He gave her a conciliatory hug. She was standing on her crutches so he didn’t notice how stiffly she held herself in resistance to his embrace. “I can see that Mr. Landry has upset you again. He truly is a scoundrel to have said what he did about you. You’re better off without him, Rusty, believe me.
“However,” he continued briskly, “we won’t let his lack of charm keep us from doing business with him. I intend to move forward with our plans in spite of his objections to them.”
r /> “Father, I beg you—”
He laid a finger against her lips. “Hush, now. Let’s not talk anymore tonight. Tomorrow you’ll feel better. You’re still emotionally overwrought. Having surgery so soon after the plane crash probably wasn’t such a good idea. It’s perfectly understandable that you’re not quite yourself. One of these days you’ll come to your senses and return to being the old Rusty. I have every confidence that you won’t disappoint me.”
He kissed her forehead. “Good night, my dear. Look over this proposal,” he said, withdrawing a file folder from his lizard briefcase and laying it on the coffee table. “I’ll drop by tomorrow morning, eager to hear your opinion.”
After he left, Rusty locked up her house and returned to the bedroom. She bathed, languishing in a hot bubble bath. She’d taken one every day since the doctor had said it was okay to get her leg wet. But once she was dried, lotioned, and powdered, she still hadn’t rid her body of the traces of Cooper’s lovemaking.
She was pleasantly sore between her thighs. The blemish he’d left on her breast still showed up rosily, as indelible as a tattoo. Her lips were tender and puffy. Every time she wet them with her tongue, she could taste him.
Looking at herself in the mirror, she admitted that he was right. She did look as if she’d just been engaged in rowdy lovemaking.
Her bed seemed as large and empty as a football field during the off-season. The linens still smelled like Cooper. In her mind she relived every moment they’d spent together that afternoon—the giving and taking of pleasure; the exchange of erotic dialogue. Even now, his whispered, naughty words echoed through her mind, causing her to flush hotly all over.
She yearned for him and could find no comfort in the thought that her life would be a series of empty days and joyless nights like this one.
She’d have her work, of course.
And her father.
Her wide circle of friends.
Her social activities.
It wouldn’t be enough.
There was a great big hole where the man she loved should be.
She sat up in bed and clutched the sheet against her, as though the realization she’d just had would get away from her if she didn’t hold on to it until she could act upon it.
