Baby, Oh Baby! (38 page)

Tom rose, too, apparently intending to move over and sit between the two women. Susanna had no intention of allowing that. She rapidly handed him her black carry-on bag. "Honey, would you please put this in the overhead bin for me?"

When he stepped out into the aisle, Susanna scooted into the, center seat. She took far longer than necessary ' fastening her seatbelt so that she didn't have to converse.; with Kelly.

A final pair of late-boarding passengers came through the door. To Susanna's relief, she recognized them as a, prominent local attorney and his wife.

"Bob—and Barbara!"

The woman, a trim, middle-aged blonde, smiled brightly. "Susanna—it's wonderful to see you! It's been so long."

"Yes. Too long." Susanna smiled up. "I think the last time we got together was at our holiday party three years ago."

"I believe it was. That was a wonderful affair."

"Tom and I will be holding another one this year. I hope you two can come."

"Oh, we wouldn't miss it! Your party was the highlight of the season!"

Bob clapped Tom on the shoulder as they edged past. "Glad you convinced your better half to join us in New Orleans. Barbara was disappointed when I told her Susanna didn't plan to come."

So Tom had been telling people she wouldn't be coming. The news sent another arrow into Susanna's heart.

"I surprised him at the last moment," she volunteered.

"I'm sure you made him a very happy man." Bob winked at her husband. "We'll all have to go out to dinner together while we're in New Orleans. It'll be like old times."

"Oh, that sounds marvelous," Susanna said gaily. She placed her hand on top of Tom's, knowing he wouldn't pull away in front of a friend. He would do anything to avoid a scene. "Doesn't it, dear?"

He cleared his throat and stiffly nodded. "Sure."

The flight attendant came on the intercom and began the liturgy of preflight instructions. Susanna leaned back and sighed. She'd won the first round. But she didn't kid herself. The Battle of New Orleans was still ahead.

"What is
she
doing here?" Kelly demanded two hours later, as she and Tom waited in line at the boarding gate of their connecting flight at Houston Hobby Airport.

Tom glanced over at Susanna, who was holding animated conversation several yards away with the wives of two other Tulsa attorneys also bound for the convention. He lifted his shoulders. "She just showed up. I was as surprised as you."

"Well, can't you send her home?"

"Now, Kelly, you know I can't very well do that. I'm not going to cause a scene in front of my. colleagues."

The. woman's eyes narrowed with displeasure. "What am I supposed to do?"

Act like an adult, Tom thought irritably. "We agreed we'd be discreet. Since so many people we know are on the flight, we'd have needed to sit separately on this leg of the trip anyway."

"I'm not talking about that. I mean once we get to New Orleans. Where am I supposed to stay?"

"Well, obviously not with me."

"Great. Just great." Her mouth twisted into a pout. "I don't have a reservation and the convention hotel is sold out.”

"I'm sorry, Kelly. I told you I wasn't comfortable with this arrangement from the beginning. It was all your idea."

"You didn't exactly tell me no."

That was true. He'd handled things. badly. It wasn't fair to lay all the responsibility on Kelly. "I'm sorry, I really am. But the fact is I'm a married man."

"Maybe not for long."

Something in her voice sounded an alarm in his mind. He'd talked to Kelly about the problems in marriage; he'd even talked to her about leaving Susanna. But her remark didn't sound like a reflection on conversations.

It had the sly, ominous hiss of a threat.

He smiled down at her in what he hoped was a rating manner. "I'm sure the conference registration staff will be able to help you find a place to stay."

Kelly sniffed haughtily. "I have no intention of staying at an off-site hotel. I've got a more effective way of handling things."

There was a cold; viperous tone to her voice that made him pause. "What way is that?"

She flipped her hair over her shoulder. "I'll make a scene. I'll insist that I have it reservation and that they've made an error. If I get bitchy enough, I always get my way.'

Another burst of alarm shot through Tom. Oh, Christ—she wasn't above raising a public stink. Kelly no longer looked like a harmless sex kitten. She suddenly looked like a full-grown mountain lion, and he felt uncomfortably like her prey.

She lifted her head. imperiously. "I expect you to have dinner with me tonight."

"Kelly, that's impossible."

Her eyes flashed. "If you think I came all the way down here just to sit on the sidelines and watch you Waltz around with your wife, you're sorely mistaken." k A chill ran through Tom. This boded ill. Very ill. A 'hole different side of Kelly was emerging, and it isn't a pretty sight.

He gave her a tight smile. "We'll talk about it later. Why don't we meet in the hotel gift shop around six?"

"Why not the bar?"

"It's too obvious."

Her forehead puckered in an ugly frown. "I don't like I don't like it a bit."

"I don't like it, either." What he really didn't like was dark, dangerous vibes she was sending out, like a squid shooting ink. He was glad when the line moved and it was his turn at the desk. He couldn't wait to get away from her.

"What a lovely room!" Susanna crossed to the window of the luxurious hotel room and looked out at the Mississippi River. "And what a beautiful view!"

She presented quite a view herself. The sun shone through the fabric of her casual linen dress, revealing her long, slim legs and shapely bottom. Tom looked away, trying to tamp down the rush of attraction, and watched the bellboy hang their bags in the closet. Peeling several dollar bills off his money clip, he tipped the hotel employee and waited until the hotel room door closed behind him.

"We're alone now, Susanna," he said. "You can quit acting like Suzy Sunshine and tell me what's going on."

Susanna turned and gave him a soft smile. "Suzy Sunshine—that was what you called me when we first married. Remember?"

He did. Unfortunately, he remembered why he'd called her that, too—being around her made him feel warm and relaxed and happy, like a day at the beach. The name stirred fond, tender memories—memories that made him decidedly uneasy, because they made him feel like such a jerk now.

He stared out at the river, watching a freighter navigate the bend. "So what prompted your sudden interest in traveling?"

"I told you. I want to spend some time with you." She turned toward him and stepped close, near enough that he could smell her White Shoulders perfume. Memories, as warm and provocative as the scent, floated through his mind. "I've missed you, Tom. I've missed us."

"I haven't gone anywhere."

"Oh, yeah?" She gave a slow, sexy smile. "Let me see." Before he knew it, she'd put her arms around his neck and pulled him into a kiss.

She tasted sweet and warm, like freshly baked cakeangel food and devil's food, with passion fruit icing. His body immediately responded.

She reflexively snugged her body against his arousal. "I've missed this."

Good Lord—he'd missed it, too. But she was the one who'd created the distance. Just when he'd needed her most, when his heart was breaking, when he needed to give comfort as much he'd needed to receive it, she'd pulled away and isolated herself from him.

Just like his mother had done after his father's death.

The thought made Tom draw back. But Susanna refused to release her hold on him. "Remember the first time we kissed?" she murmured, running her hands through his hair.

As if he could ever forget. He'd never forget any of his firsts with Susanna—the first time he'd laid eyes on her, the first time he'd heard her soft voice, the first time he'd gotten close enough to smell her perfume. She'd looked like a brunette Grace Kelly, sitting in the next aisle of his junior-year statistics class in college. It had taken him a month to get up the nerve to ask her out, and five dates before he'd tried to kiss her. When he had, she'd kissed him back with such passion that it had turned his world upside down. He'd rapidly gone from bewitched to besotted. Within four months, he'd asked her to marry him.

He'd been amazed that she'd said yes. She was the pampered daughter of a wealthy Mobile industrialist, and he was a poor boy from West Texas—poor because his father had died when he was a youth and his mother had chosen to escape loneliness through self-medication.

Susanna had represented all that he admired, all that he aspired to, all that he wanted in life. Respectability. Class. Refinement.

He'd wanted a women who was the exact opposite of his mother, and he'd found it in Susanna. She would never publicly humiliate him. He would never have to bail her out of jail or carry her home when she passed out or apologize for her behavior. He'd wanted a woman who would be an asset to him, and Susanna had more than exceeded his wildest dreams. Her social grace, personal warmth, and political acumen had helped him build the strong network of friends and associates that was the cornerstone of his success.

But then Rachel had died, and Susanna had done the one thing that, he now realized, he resented his mother for most of all: she'd emotionally abandoned him just when he'd needed her most.

Susanna nuzzled close now, nipping at his bottom lip with her mouth. He felt the imprint of her breasts against his chest, the press of her pelvis against his. "I want you," she murmured. "I want to make love with you."

He wanted her, too—wanted desperately to fall into bed with her, to pretend, for a just few moments, that the last two years had never happened. But he was torn--torn between the need to get close and the need to keep his distance. Torn by guilt. Torn by a jumble of crazy, topsy-turvy emotions bubbling inside of him like a shaken-up can of soda.

He'd planned to come to New Orleans and cheat on her. How could he just turn around and make love to her now? In some ways, that almost seemed worse— more two-faced, certainly--than actually being unfaithful.

Hell. His thinking didn't make any sense anymore, not even in his own head. Maybe he was losing his mind.

He pulled away and glanced down at his watch. "I, uh, need to go downstairs and see someone."

It was time to meet Kelly. He didn't dare stand her up. He had find a way to appease her so that she didn't create some kind of scene.

Susanna released him with a reluctant sigh. "All right. How long do you think you'll be?"

"I'm not sure."

"Well, I've made plans for us to dine with the Bennetts tonight. We're going to Commander's Palace."

Tom froze. It would look very odd if he didn't accompany his wife to dinner—especially tonight, when, the conference had yet to officially get underway. Especially with the Bennetts. Bob was this year's conference chairman. If the man was free to have dinner with his wife, then Tom most certainly should be there with his own.

"You shouldn't have made plans without talking to me," he said curtly.

Susanna smiled apologetically. "I thought you had more than enough on your mind. If you can't make it, well, I'll just go out with them alone."

Tom sighed. He really didn't have a choice. "What time are the reservations?"

"Seven-thirty. We're leaving the hotel at seven-fifteen."

"I'll meet you back here at seven."

Two mornings later, Susanna checked her wristwatch as she sat in the elegant hotel restaurant. She was supposed to meet seven other wives for breakfast to kick off a day of sight-seeing and shopping, but she was thirty minutes early. Tom had had to get up for a seven-thirty breakfast meeting, and she'd been unable to go back to sleep.

No, that wasn't quite right, she thought dryly, taking a sip of fragrant chicory laced coffee. "Back to sleep" implied that she'd actually slept. For most of the last two nights, she'd lain awake, painfully aware of Tom tossing fitfully beside her. Last night he'd rolled onto his side, his back toward her, and pretended to be asleep as soon as they'd climbed into the king-sized bed together, but she'd known better.

She hadn't made it easy on him. Two could play at this game, she'd decided. Pretending to be asleep herself, she'd curled up against .his, back and wrapped her arm around him, letting her hand drape strategically across his groin. His body had instantly, responded. She'd lain perfectly still, deliberately keeping her breathing deep and regular. After a few torturous minutes, Tom had rolled onto his stomach—a position that couldn't have been comfortable, considering that he was stiff as a kickstand.

Later, when he actually was asleep, he'd rolled over and curled up next to her, cradling her against his chest. It had felt so sweet that she'd laid there and wept into her pillow. He'd held her for most of the night, and when the alarm sounded at seven, she'd still been in his arms. She'd pretended to be asleep, and had been gratified to feel him run his hands over her breasts just before he'd arisen.

Susanna took another sip of coffee, but the warmth that spread through her had nothing to do with the hot beverage. Her plan was working. Quietly and noncombatively, she was reasserting herself into Tom's life, reminding him that they shared a common history not only with each other, but with everyone they knew. He couldn't lose her without losing other parts of his life.

Susanna's train of thought was interrupted by the abrupt appearance of Kelly at her table, wearing a short, tight blue suit. Adrenaline flooded her veins, but Susanna forced a calm smile. "Why, good morning, Kelly. Are you enjoying the conference?"

The blonde ignored the question and fixed her with a hostile glare. "Tom doesn't love you, you know."

Susanna felt as if she'd just taken a sucker punch. She struggled for a reply, but she needn't have bothered, because Kelly wasn't through spewing venom. "He's just staying with you out of pity. He plans to leave you, but he hasn't found a way to tell you yet. It's me that he wants."

Susanna drew a deep calming breath, carefully keeping her features even, grateful for the rigid training in comportment that had been a major part of her upbringing. "How very interesting." She slowly took a sip of coffee, gripping the handle tightly to keep her hand from shaking. "He certainly wasn't acting like a man who wanted you last night. Or this morning, either, for that matter." She carefully put her cup back in the china saucer.