“Exactly what she figured. Bugs crawled on me, mosquitoes bit me, and it rained. One night was all it took.” Something about the wistful tone in Walker’s voice made Ellen feel sad. Perhaps a dream should be an end in itself. It was too easy to be disappointed when fantasies came true and weren’t like you’d imagined at all.
“Why so sad?” Walker slipped his arm around her shoulder and gave her a little hug.
Ellen swallowed hard before she could answer, and her voice was shaking. “You lost your dream forever. Don’t you think that’s sad?”
“I didn’t lose my dream,” Walker protested gently. “I just tempered it with a little reality. I decided I’d rather live under a tree that had walls and a Plexiglas roof.”
Ellen smiled, but before she could stop, the bitter tears of longing, the tears she had held back for so long, were rolling down her cheeks. Walker tightened his arms around her and Ellen felt herself falling into an abyss, a sheer drop of thousands of feet that was cushioned every inch of the way by his sheltering body. He held her for a long time. And then he parted the branches and led her back to the building.
Marc was passing the window when he happened to look out and see them heading for the entrance of the building, holding hands. Ellen and her faithful slave. He had absolutely nothing against blacks personally, hired them all the time for his construction crews, but this guy had a bad habit of poking his nose into places where it didn’t belong. Of course, he was a pretty good business manager for Ellen, digging out all those contracts that Johnny had arranged for Vegas Dolls. Marc had suspected that Johnny was up to something, but he hadn’t known the details until Walker had asked his advice on the shipping contract.
He gave a wry smile, wondering whether they were sleeping together. The concept of a black guy getting to Ellen bothered him, although he supposed it shouldn’t. It was Ellen’s business and he had no stake in it. He’d never tried to pick up on her and he never would. She wasn’t his type. And if you looked at the whole thing objectively, Walker was a lot better bet than Johnny Day.
Marc watched as they went into the building, then went to the liquor cabinet to pour himself a splash of vodka. He knew he ought to get some sleep, but his nerves were shot. Vanessa’s death bothered him a lot more than he’d figured and helping Walker lay her out in the freezer had been a total bummer. Perhaps it was because he’d slept with her just a couple of nights before, and the memories were still fresh. Vanessa had known how to please him and she’d been up for anything. Whenever she’d knocked on his door, he’d known he was in for a wild night. He hadn’t loved her, far from it, but they’d been two of a kind. On their last night together she’d told him they were animals in bed but nothing more than neighbors with their clothes on, a pretty deep thought for Vanessa. Knowing that he’d never get the chance to enjoy her gorgeous body and her warm, moist lips again was a real downer.
He finished his drink and set the glass on the bar next to the one he’d used last night. It was over a week since Ramona had cleaned, and the mess was beginning to get to him. There was a film of dust so thick he could write in it on top of his smoked-glass and chrome coffee table, the white carpet in the living room had a red stain where he’d dropped a raspberry Danish, and his pinball machines needed a shot of Windex. He would have cleaned the place himself, but Ramona brought in her own cleaning supplies and he’d never bothered to stock them. Here he was, living in the most expensive condo he’d ever built, and it was turning into a dive.
He pushed the dirty glasses to the back of the bar and scowled as his elbow twinged. He’d bumped it on that damn case of lobster when he’d helped Walker lay Vanessa out in the freezer and it had been bothering him ever since. Maybe he should have gone in for the operation his doctor had recommended last year. With the new techniques in orthoscopic surgery, his arm could be repaired completely. If they’d had the technology ten years ago, he would have jumped at the chance, but it had seemed pointless at this stage of the game. It was too late for him. No major league ball club would consider hiring a forty-year-old rookie.
There was no sense getting riled up about it. Marc filled his glass to the brim, took another gulp, and then headed for the game room. It was only natural to be jumpy after everything that had happened in the past few days. He needed some distraction or he’d go crazy, stuck up here in the condo with nothing but his anxiety for company.
Marc took off his shirt and flexed. Women still came on to him all the time and it wasn’t because of his money. His newest lady couldn’t seem to get enough of him. Myra wasn’t much in the brains department, but he didn’t go out with a woman to talk to her.
She was one crazy lady with an incredible body. He’d learned to spot silicone from a mile away and Myra was all natural. She was also a serious cokehead, but that didn’t bother him. Then there was Myra’s daughter. When he’d gone to pick Myra up last week, the little nymphet had waltzed out of her bedroom stark naked. At sixteen, she’d already developed a figure to rival her mother’s, and all that rosy young skin had nearly driven him crazy. Naturally, she’d acted all surprised, but Marc knew she’d heard him come in. If he’d guessed that damned avalanche was going to hit, he would have invited them both up here for lunch.
Ellen could still feel the imprint of his lips on hers when she pulled away. They were standing in the middle of the living room, still in their parkas and boots. “Look, Walker. I like you a lot, but this is impossible.”
“A kiss is impossible?” Walker raised his eyebrows as he shrugged out of his parka. “Could’ve fooled me. I thought we just did it. Take off your coat, Ellen, you’re going to get overheated.”
“I just mean that we shouldn’t get involved. It really won’t work.” Ellen unzipped her jacket and threw it on the couch.
“Because I’m black and you’re white?”
“That has nothing to do with it and you know it!” Ellen sat down to pull off her boots.
“Didn’t think so.” Walker flashed her a smile. “Then you’re not attracted to me?”
Ellen took a deep breath and threw her boots in the corner. “I just don’t want to get involved with any man.”
“But, Ellen, I’m not just any man.”
The color rose in Ellen’s face. She was beginning to get exasperated. “You’re being deliberately obtuse! What do I have to do, spell it out for you?”
Walker placed his boots next to Ellen’s, taking time to straighten both pairs, then came to sit next to her on the couch. “Spell it out for me, Ellen, the whole thing. I want to know exactly why you won’t let me love you.”
“Oh.” Ellen’s voice was very small. She hadn’t expected this. “All right, then. I had a bad experience. With a man.”
“But it wasn’t with me, was it, Ellen?”
“Look, Walker, it doesn’t really matter what happened. The point is, I’m bright enough to realize my limitations and stay away from the obvious pitfalls.”
Walker pulled her into his arms and kissed her again. Ellen felt herself falling again, swimming in a pool of pure sensation. She knew she couldn’t take much more of this. It was far too dangerous.
“You’re crazy, Ellen.” Walker released her at last. “And you’re so damned defensive you make me want to cry. But I’m crazy about you anyway.”
He was giving her that smile again, the smile she had to return. And then he was pushing her down on the couch. And kissing her again and again, the way she’d dreamed someone would kiss her. And this time their clothes did fall away like rain, perhaps because her head was whirling so hard she could barely think. And then he was carrying her into the bedroom, carrying her, Ellen Wingate, with her too-tall awkward body that seemed amazingly petite in his arms. And the light was on in the bedroom, and she wished he’d turn it off, but he seemed to want to look at her and touch her, running his hands over her skin with a feathery sweeping motion that made her breath catch in her throat. And then she was on top of her quilt, her face pressed against the smooth muscles of his chest and oh God! She knew she’d die if he didn’t kiss her again!